Rustle

I opened my eyes, taking in my surroundings of oriental tiles and bright red bricks. My tired and brand new awakened eyes took their time settling with the shining rays of the sun. I sat up, looking around and taking my surroundings, unable to recognize where I was. I stood up, rotating to see all of the objects that were around me; I reckoned I was in some type of balcony, or a terrace of some sort.

Dusting myself, I directed my sight towards the large bay patio door; my feet automatically made their way there. I tried to open it, but no avail, I shook and twisted the knob but it wouldn't budge and I couldn't even see which room this balcony led to, since the inside room was guarded by large and thick velboa curtains that disallowed any light or looks to seep in.

After about five minutes of reckless twisting, I saw the curtains open. I backed away automatically, afraid that I might have been caught, even if I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was met with dark brown eyes I recognized all too well, they belonged to Namjoon. It seemed like he couldn't see me, I was in front of him, and yet, it was as if I wasn't there at all.

I was about to call out his name, but his current appearance made me realize that perhaps that wouldn't be the best idea; seeing as I was back in that parallel past dimension, if that makes any sense.

Brown hair, slightly chubbier cheeks and definitely shorter in height, his usual fancy suits and gold cufflinks were replaced by a seemingly old pair of pants, a shaggy beige button up that was rolled up and an authentic pair of leather suspenders.

Despite the poverty of his looks, his eyes held so much power. I felt myself fall a slave to the demeanor of pure knowledge and fine education that his deep brown eyes held. The book he was holding in his hand as he stepped onto the terrace further assured my point; Namjoon hadn't become valedictorian just like that.

My (E/C) eyes followed his moving figure as he threw himself on the Moroccan styled patio bench. The whole area we were currently in, I was sure I hadn't visited before, seemed so out of place with the mansion itself. It had an Arabian feel to it, the warm colors, the numerous multicolored tassels that hung onto each and every piece of furniture, the pillow-like footstools and puffs, not to mention the intricate designs that were etched onto the walls and the fabric that lined the room. The beauty of it all was only enhanced by the orange and yellow that contrasted greatly against a purple, almost midnight blue, sky. It was around sunset, it had to be. The whole atmosphere felt as if I were in a scenario from A Thousand and One Nights.

I was completely mesmerized by the dissimilarity of the style of this wing and the house itself; my mind kept wondering if it were still kept this way. I directed my attention to Namjoon once again, watching as he seemed so eaten by the book, it was truly a sight. His large and innocent eyes darting so carefully over each and every word, worried he might miss one unit of the greatly elaborated sentences that he had lost himself into. A smile naturally formed onto my face, his interest in everything was truly an attractive trait, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't touched by said attraction.

Taking a seat on one of the numerous stools, I set my chin into the palm of my hand, intently looking around. I couldn't keep my eyes settled in one place. My eyes were examining every single inch of the balcony, looking at the clear curtains that rimmed the doors and windows, the carefully placed floor tiles, the carpets, the jewels, everything made me feel as if I was back into the Abbasid or Ottoman eras. The design of the room itself was unique, intricate and recklessly magnificent.

My thoughts came to an abrupt stop as I heard a rather sultry voice call out for Namjoon, I briefly looked behind myself before I darted my eyes towards the young vampire once again, watching as he came close to falling apart right before me. His eyes held a look of pure guilt before he tried to play it off as if he was asleep; which made me raise my eyebrow. Why would he want to pass it off as if he was asleep to whoever it was? I also questioned the identity of this person, it couldn't have been Troian, the latter had a very gentle voice, and I deemed her not as the type to use a seductive tone when speaking; she was far too... chaste and sweet. Turning my head towards the opening door, I came eye to eye with quite the sight.

The sultry voice we once heard, seemingly belonged to an utmost beautiful woman. The word beautiful itself, was a shame to her, she was inexplicably beautiful. Her long dark hair reached far beyond her hips, her skin was an Arabesque color, and her eyes were probably her most captivating feature, they were a sheer brown, almost honey colored, and they were big. I could've sworn I had seen them before; Jimin's eyes.

Her face was perfectly sculpted; her large eyes were topped by a small but long nose that perfectly suited her, she held a sharp jawline; Jimin's jawline. Despite her remarkable resemblance to Jimin, her lips completely threw off anyone who dared to think that she looked not like Taehyung; plump rich red lips and a perfect set of teeth that pulled into the most innocent rectangular smile. Taehyung's smile.

My eyes searched for a trait of resemblance between her and Namjoon, there was the stunning skin color, but also the stance she held; powerful but humble, severe but kind, confident but still insecure at times. Her broad shoulders and long legs, and the way she crooked her eyebrow upwards and tilted her head as she pulled one side of her lips into a recognizable smirk couldn't have screamed it louder; Namjoon's aura.

I couldn't tear my eyes off of her; she had to be the mother of those three. There was no way she couldn't be. She looked like the woman I'd seen in the painting before, and from what I recalled, she stood next to quite the old man; was that their father? Probably.

Settling my thoughts, I put the whole of my attention onto her, finally noticing the look of utter turpitude her eyes held.

"I know you're not asleep, Namjoon-ah." She spoke, her low voice making me shiver as I turned to look at Namjoon, seeing his Adam's apple move as he swallowed the thick lump of nerves that was building through his body.

"Yes, Eomeoni?" He asked, his eyebrows raising as he watched his mother move towards one of the many stools that lined the room. A wicked grin hugged her visage as she crossed her arms; somewhat pushing her humongous bust out. Unconsciously, I directed my eyes towards my chest, examining it before quickly looking back at the woman.

"I know you saw me this morning with your Uncle Taejoon..." She stated, biting her lip, almost seductively, as she eyed her son and he rubbed his forearm. "Yeah, yeah, I did. Don't worry, I won't tell Papa. You needn't worry about it."

"How can I be sure? You told your brother about me and the gardener, Namjoon-ah." She informed and it was his turn to bite his lip.

"I won't tell him this time. Please, Eomeoni, just leave." He begged, the look in his eyes one of sorrow and distinguished distrust.

"Can you really speak to me like this, Namjoon-ah?" She whispered sadly, and Namjoon sighed. "Mianhae, Eomeoni, but I want to finish my book."

At that moment, a bitter laugh left the woman's lips as she crawled over her son, her attitude was far too... sultry, it lacked motherliness and to be honest; I was a bit taken back by her acts, I also thoroughly ignored what signals I should have been receiving; the ones I did receive were hellishly frightening though, I must say.

Watching the way she bent over, it was rather provocative especially since she was talking to her son. I found myself turning my head slightly in disgust. What was she trying to achieve? The nature of her actions seemed far too sultry, wanton, and considering this was her son, one might even say incestuous.

I felt my eyebrows furrowing, despite my growing disgust and horror, I couldn't rip my eyes away, eager to know what else she was willing to do, what else was going to occur. These flashbacks were starting to become like reality shows, no matter how cringe-worthy it gets; one can simply not stop watching.

Her hand glided effortlessly over his chest as he mumbled incoherent prohibitions and protest. His nerves were wrecking him; it was more than obvious. Her gleaming eyes held pure lust; it was more than obvious. Long and slender fingers held onto his own calloused hands as she guided his much smaller hands towards her waist. It seemed she had pushed his limits, and as his trembling lips were pushed into a firm line, he pushed her body away from his own as he took stance, leaving the woman he called mother, the same woman who had clearly tried to entice him mere seconds ago, fall limply onto the covered bench. Huffing, she carelessly kicked off her shoes as she laid down.

"You won't resist me much longer, Namjoon-ah."

Vaguely, she kicked the book her son was once reading, and the moment it hit the ground; I woke up.

What was that book anyways?

"(Y/N)-ah."

My eyes opened, and I was met with a familiar pair of deep brown eyes. A hitched breath left my lips as I sat up, taking in my surroundings. My hand raised to my forehead, feeling the endless beads of sweat that were rolling down my skin. Carefully, I turned towards Namjoon, noticing the look of confusion in his face. Looking around, I distinguished I was in my room. How had I gotten here?

"What happened?" I questioned and he chuckled; "You fell asleep in the car, so Jimin carried you to your room." The vampire explained. Nodding, I took in a deep breath, trying my best to settle down. Despite the knowledge of these... flashbacks? Dreams? Visions? Despite the knowledge they were providing me, they exhausted me so much. I had just woken up from sleep and I felt more tired than I would have if I ran across the country.

Gripping my head, I slowly turned my sight back to the vampire that sat by me, "And what are you doing here?" I inquired and he sheepishly grinned as he ruffled his hair, he seemed, ashamed? Embarrassed? Something along those lines.

He turned to his side of the bed, "No reason really, just wanted to check up on you." He stated.

"I guess I'll leave now." He stood up, and I, for whatever reason, gripped his hand. As my hand tightened around his wrist, I came to realize that perhaps, just perhaps, the feelings that I had gathered for the majority of these vampires were a spawn of the limitless empathy I felt for each and every one of them.

These vampires, these humans at heart, from what I had seen and lived, had truly had it hard, and I hadn't even seen everything. Surely, said past didn't excuse some of the traits I had yet to discover at a point, hell, it didn't even justify them, but it was enough knowing that they weren't messed, just like that.

After a sigh, "Don't leave." I demanded, looking up at him and he turned around, a look of pure astonishment embracing his facial features before he nodded.

Gently, he removed my hand from his and in a swift move; pushed me to the other side of the bed, almost making me fall, mind you, he chuckled and pulled at the covers. With a glare, I let out a small whine as he chuckled once more.

"What?" He questioned and I huffed.

"I thought you were supposed to be mature." I reminded and he rose his eyebrows. "I don't see what you mean, I'm very mature." He corrected and I let out a laugh.

"Ha. Haha. Hahahahahahaha." I teased, "Yeah, right."

"What? I am!" He whined and I jumped off the bed.

"A mature person would discuss how and why he's mature, not whine that he is."

"Fair enough." He admitted and I grinned, retrieving of my pajamas from atop the bedroom bench. "I'm going to take a shower; please don't wait up on me." I advised and he sent me a very explicit grin, "Can I jo-"

"Ew. No."

After much arguing, I finally managed to get it into Namjoon's head that he could not join me in the shower and I made it to the bathroom.

Closing the door, I undressed completely, grabbing a towel along as I walked into the carefully embossed and built Roman shower. It was truly a real life photography of the absolutism the Roman Dynasty used to have; with its carefully built marble arches, the fading and flickering pale yellow lights of the numerous candles that lit the room, the copper finish of the plumbing, everything really, everything in this household was worth awing at, it was all too majestic, pristine, simply royal.

Making my way towards the far left shower, I turned it on, taking in the feeling of the lukewarm water as it slowly fell on my body, soaking my hair and relieving me off of all the exhaustion that had bottled up whilst I was... dreaming?

I let out a bit of a chuckle, laughing at myself over how I was unable to name whatever had been occurring to me whilst I slept. Shaking my head, I reached for the bottle of scented shampoo, and as I massaged the thick liquid substance onto my hair; I could have sworn I heard a laugh.

A disheartening laugh that was all too familiar.

My eyes were closed as I took in a deep breath. Consciously, I washed my eyes out from any soap before I looked around, trying to figure out where the laugh came from. It repeated, and as I analyzed where the sounds came from, it seemed like it emitted from the water drain at the very corner of the shower I was standing in.

Holding onto myself, I, curiously, raised the small metal platform with my toe, and I felt something sickeningly thin holding onto the flesh of my toe. It felt all too strange, as if there were some type of... thread, a thread that was hooked onto my toe and pulling it into the drain hole.

Curiosity killed the cat, you should know that by now.

The 'thread' got much tighter, and I could feel it slicing through my skin as I let out a whimper of utter misunderstanding. What was happening? And how was it happening? The blurriness of my vision was there, but it didn't completely disallow me seeing someone. At one point, I started seeing redness, redness of my blood and my sobs of fear got relatively louder, my whimpers got clearer, and what phased me was that; it didn't hurt anymore.

I could no longer feel the pain of the tightening rope around my toe.

A greater pain replaced it.

I screeched loudly as my hands balled into fists, the feeling of something going into my back and pulling at each and every single one of my spinal segments. A groan left my lips as the sickening feeling of pliers pulling at my spine traveled through each nerve of my body, sending a striking spasm to my brain, a spasm of unbearable pain. Pliers. I felt like there were pliers pulling at the most sensitive part of my body and the unrealistic sounds I was letting out were not something I could control.

My nails dug into my hand as my balled up hands tightened; blood started emitting from my hands, it voyaged down thanks to the bursting shower head. Lowering my eyes, I came to realize that the amount of blood falling down the drain was far too much to simply be coming from my bleeding toe and my hands; my eyes widened at the sight of the crimson liquid, realizing it came from my aching and pained back.

"O-oh m-my..." My lips were a trembling mess as I looked at the mix of clear water and diluting red blood mixing; a canvas of calmness and disturbance all together. My (E/C) eyes wouldn't focus on the mix that wandered down the drain, clouded from the tears of indescribable pain I was feeling. It was horrifying, especially as my ears settled onto the repeated echoes of the voice that simply wouldn't go away, a voice I had heard before, but I couldn't tell where I had heard the promiscuous voice, the sultry and promiscuous voice that belonged to an anonymous person, an anonymous person I was sure I had encountered before, but where?

Perhaps in your wildest dreams

Is this a wild dream of yours?

No? Well, that's for me to decide.

Stop.

It all came to a stop.

The unbearable pain stopped; the overflow of crimson liquid; the blurriness of my eyes.

All gone

I had a hard time processing what happened as my sobs abruptly stopped. I watched the shower floor clear down, the spray of water stop, the soap in my hair was gone. A breath of pure consternation left my parted lips and I furrowed my eyebrows; what had happened? My hands reached to my back, trying to spot some type of dent that was left from the torture I had felt before, but it wasn't there, my toe wasn't even wounded, my hands were not either. What had happened?

It couldn't have been a dream, or a daydream, or an illusion, it felt far too absolute, far too real to actually not be a reality, but it seemed like everything I had sensed merely seconds ago was nothing more than an illusion. Tears of building up confusion darted down my cheek as I was incapable of understanding what I had gone through.

From the unexplained dreams about the boys you believe to be vampires,

The happening torture you simply sensed and thought to be real,

Are you sure you're still sane?

The echoing voice was still present though. It was still there, and as long as it was still there, I was sure that whatever had happened in this bathroom, had actually happened. It wasn't an illusion, it wasn't a daydream, it wasn't a hallucination. I'm not insane

How long will you keep believing that?

If they're insane, you will end up too.

You'll be just as crazy as them; if not more.

I could not comprehend as to why this voice was attacking me. Quickly, despite my trembling hands, I managed to wrap myself in a towel before I took my clothing and headed out, deeming it pretty dangerous to stay and change in the bathroom. I was still unaware that this voice, this traumatizing echo of verbal judgement would be with me for a while.

Once into the room, my eyes settled on Namjoon's laid down figure as he played with a pillow and I held my forehead, seeing as I had completely forgotten he was there. Seeing me, he flashed me a smile before he rose his eyebrows.

"(Y/N)-ah...What's wrong?" He questioned and I looked at him, "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"What happened? You're sickeningly pale. Did something happen in there?" He asked, a second later after his question, he was at my side, gripping my hands, his eyes filled with care and concern and I found myself into his caring nature, with no further ado, I found myself narrating what had happened in the bathroom as he set me onto the bed.

As I finished reciting the occurrences, a look of curiosity and concern made its way to his face before he rubbed the skin of his forearm.

"This seems like the work of a siren vampire, really." He stated and I rose my eyebrows, "Aren't sirens and vampires like, two different things?"

"Yes, but, vampires can have the same luring and compelling nature as some other myths, such as sirens." He explained and I nodded.

"So sirens don't exist?" I questioned and he chuckled, "Not really, no."

"What about unicorns?"