chapter fifteen / shipo
Lights
(015)

Everyone stands at the open entrance of the museum, hesitant, not wanting to be the brave one who ventures into the unknown dangers that await us.

A short girl with raven hair, a black leather jacket, and a sword strapped to her back is the first of us to make a move. No one dares speak a word, the anxiety we all feel and the beating of our hearts being too loud to bear any other noise. We watch the brave girl walk inside. I swallow nervously, wishing that I wasn't just standing here, motionless as the poor girl goes into the building on her own. I wish I could walk right beside her, a reasurring smile on my face, one that tells her we'll all get through this. No one deserves to do this alone, but I just can't get my brain to force my legs to move forward.

I wish I could be like the girl with raven hair. I wish I could be as fearless as her. She's a warrior, a hero.

The sound of her boots hitting the marble floor is the only sound cutting through the cold air. After a few steps, she turns on her heels to address the crowd eyeing her every move.

"I think it's safe." Her voice surprises me. Even though she has a small and soft frame, her voice carries well, not a trace of fear. No trembling, no shaking. The strength in her voice is almost loud enough to quiet the anxious whispers and murmers in my head. I take a deep breath and wipe my sweaty hands on the fabric of my jeans. As I start to walk towards the girl, I can feel Namjoon reach out to stop me, but I don't let him. We can't give up now.

The girl turns her head slightly to look at me as the sound of my footsteps slowly approach her. I clench my fists, roll my shoulders, and clench my jaw, trying to look as fierce as her. I don't feel fierce. I feel small, I feel exposed, I feel like I'm in danger, just by walking into the building with stale air.

The girl smirks at me when I stand next to her, she extends her hand for me to shake. "You can call me Yani. I think you're someone I want to stick with."

"I'm nothing special," I reply.

"Nonsense," she waves me off, grabbing the sword from her back, "you have guts to be one of the first to come in here."

I don't agree, but I don't argue. I'm not brave. The bile I feel in the back of my throat says I'm a coward. The voice in my head telling me to turn back and run says anything but brave or heroic. This situation seems to give Yani a rush of excitement, but for me, I feel nothing but unadulterated panic and fear.

Yani starts to walk further into the building, stepping on the path of light that guides our way. I force myself to follow her, not wanting to let her go alone.

Eventually, others from outside start to follow. Once every one is inside, I hear the creak of the rusty door hinges turning. I spin around to see the light from outside fading away as the door swings shut. I feel my heart drop to my stomach when the door slams, closing us off from the outside.

A girl from the crowd runs to the double doors, pulling at the golden handles with all of the strength she could possibly muster, but it wouldn't budge, not even an inch. There was no way for us to turn back now. We're all trapped.

We walk further through the museum. I notice different statues, crafted from marble, iconic paintings from long ago. I know it's just a copy, but it still holds the same beauty that the originals do. Each brushstroke so graceful, so careful, to make a timeless masterpiece.

I recognize some paintings by Vincent Van Gogh. I marvel at the beautiful shades of yellow and brown, mixed together to create sunflowers.

A boy wearing overalls steps out from the group walking in the pathway of the dull light of the overhead lamps. I hear a sharp intake of breath as he looks closer to inspect the painting. His eyes sparkle with wonder, as if he just saw the secrets of the universe. He takes another step closer to the painting, his fingertips brushing the canvas carefully. I smile fondly at the boy who has such an appreciation for art.

Suddenly, the small light hanging above the painting the boy stands at starts flickering. His attention snaps from the painting to the dull light about to go out. Be careful of the shadows.

"Come back," I yell, but before the boy can move, the light finally gives out. One moment, the boy stands in the dark, a look of fear in his bright green eyes, the next, his skeleton lies on the ground, his flesh completely eaten away.

The group stands silently, hands coverings mouths, and eyes widened in shock and horror. The boy that was so lively just a few seconds ago is gone. The shadows took him.

My body trembles and shakes. I know that somewhere in the real world, the boy who loved art has died. I imagine paintings and drawings taped to his wall, paintbrushes scattered across a desk, paint stains on his carpet. I imagine his family leaving all of his things in place, visiting his room, years from now, to look at his paintings with awe, the same way he looked at the Van Gogh painting. I imagine them carrying a casket, white flowers everywhere, dirt covering him over, and broken voices saying their final goodbyes. Why didn't I tell him to come back sooner?

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when the first overhead light by the entrance starts to flicker. It goes out. Then the next, and the next, one after the other. The darkness is coming straight for us, and there's only one way to go; towards the light.

I feel Namjoon grab my hand, pulling me as he sprints to the opposite direction of of the failing lights. My heart starts pumping, so loud it seems like drums are inside of my head. Adrenaline courses through my veins, pushing me to go faster and faster. Every time I blink, I see the skeletal remains of that boy, and worst of all, I see darkness, something I haven't feared since I was a small child, but as the darkness grows when each light goes out, I know it's not an irrational fear. This is real. This means life or death.

We finally reach the end of this hall, a dark wood door being the only thing that stands between us and safety. Namjoon turns the door knob and tries pushing it open, to no avail. He rams his shoulder into the door repeatedly, cursing when he sees there isn't much light left.

"I've got it," Jungkook announces. He taps something on his holopad, and the door responds by cracking open. Once the door is open, Namjoon doesn't waste any time bursting through to the other room. Thankfully, the lights in here aren't going out, but I can't say that it's permanent.

People start filing into the room, chests heaving as they're all out of breath. I look for certain faces, taking a head count to make sure all of the boys are with us. I breathe a sigh of relief when I count all seven.

I look out to the hall we just escaped from, and my heart nearly lurches out of my chest when I still see a girl, running for her life. The lights are turning off, faster than her legs can carry her. I bite my lip and clench my fists, anxious for the girl to make it to safety. I don't want to see someone else be taken by the shadows.

The girl is within arms length when the last light goes out. Darkness engulfs her, and she falls to the ground, now unrecognizable.

"Close the door," Jungkook commands. I can see the pain and sadness on the face of the person who closes the door, almost as if he's the one that took away that girl's life, but he does as he's told. The door clicks shut, separating us from the shadows and the corpses outside.

"Everyone stay inside lighted areas," Yani instructs. No one argues. "Don't go wandering off by yourself." I think everyone in this room had agreed to that before Yani even uttered those words.

Behind me, Hoseok clutches my arm. I can feel him trembling beside me. Who wouldn't be? We just saw two people have their flesh devoured by shadows. "What now?" He breathes.

"The plan hasn't changed," Namjoon answers, "we find the key, and then we get out of this God forsaken place."

Sounds like a good plan, especially the part where we leave. I like that part a lot.

We all gather lanterns, hoping that if lights start going out, this will keep us safe, though the twist in my gut says otherwise. Jungkook hacks into the system to get ceiling lights. Whenever we move into a new room, if it's not well lit, he'll add them to the building. Even the slightest shadow cast by the brightest light, we avoid it at all costs. We don't even take the chance of crossing through each other's shadows. We can't tell if all shadows are dangerous, or if these are creatures that only resemble shadows, but after two casualties, no one is really eager to find out.

"Look for the Pieter Bruegel the Elder exhibit. The key should be in there," Jungkook informs everyone.

"I grabbed a directory from the main hall," Jin says, waving a folded piece of paper in the air, "the Pieter Bruegel exhibit is on the third level."

Namjoon pats the eldest boy on the back and smiles, obviously grateful to have Jin by his side.

We find an alternate route to go upstairs, since the first option, through the main hall, is no longer optional. The staircase circles up each of the four walls that enclose us, allowing us to look down at the lower levels as we continue to ascend. The dimly lit staircase doesn't help my anxious thoughts, so I take out my flashlight and shine it in front of me. As soon as the light stretches across the floor, the group goes into a panic.

"Wren, cut that off, it's casting shadows." Namjoon quickly snatches the device out of my hand, and cuts off the light source. I feel tears stinging my eyes, and I do my best to blink them away as he looks at me like I'm the stupidest person on the planet. That's because you are. The unkind voice in my head tells me, but with all the glares being cast my way, I can't help but agree. I could've gotten one of us killed. Because of my fear, I put the lives of the people around me in danger.

As we continue to walk up the stairs, I follow behind Namjoon, staring at his back, wishing he'd at least look at me, smile, or touch my hand, but there's nothing. Is he mad at me? Is he ashamed? I clench my jaw and my fists, determined to be an asset to this group, instead of a liability.

We finally make it to the third floor. There aren't many lights, so before we leave the staircase, Jungkook sets up some extra light fixtures around the room. Once he does, the room is illuminated by a golden glow, showing off the fine display of art in the room. There are two other rooms, separated by some walls with a large entrance. The room on the right is specifically for the Pieter Bruegel exhibit, so we don't waste any time looking in the other exhibit. Maybe in any other circumstances, but surrounded by flesh eating shadows just takes away any urges to do any exploring.

We search the room for a key similar to the one found in the castle. Some part of me expected it to be sitting on a pedestal, surrounded by a glass case, and a bright spotlight shining gloriously on the metal. I would've loved for it to be that easy, but of course that wouldn't be the case, not if the hacker had any say in the matter.

We searched around statues, in glass enclosures, in light fixtures, vent covers, behind paintings, but it was no where to be found, and as time continues to tick away, I find myself growing more and more anxious, ready to leave this terrible place.

We search high and low, but we can't seem to find anything. Suddenly, I notice Jin standing in front of a painting, his broad shoulders blocking the view of the picture. I tilt my head, wondering what has caught his interest. I walk to his side and give him an amusing look, studying his face as he studies the painting, his eyes squinting and searching for something hidden. I turn my attention to the painting, trying to see what he's seeing.

"I didn't know you liked the fall of the rebel angels so much," I say.

He purses his lips. "That's not what caught my interest. Look at the frame." And so I do. I search the golden frame, beautiful carvings of flowers and vines lining the metal. It's nice I suppose, but nothing as significant as he's making it out to be. But then I see it. On the bottom part of the frame, strange, foreign writing is engraved into the metal.

"What does it say?" I wonder aloud.

Jin shrugs his shoulders. "Don't know. Let's find out." He opens his holopad, putting the screen right in front of the strange writing. Through the screen of the holopad, I see the same thing, the same painting, the same frame, but once the screen hovers over the writing, it morphs into something my brain can decipher.

"One, three, four, three, four, zero," I read aloud, "those are the same numbers on the key from the castle."

As I put our findings into words, me and Jin's eyes meet, excitement lighting up our eyes.

"Sorry, Pieter Bruegel," Jin mutters as he punches a whole into the canvas, ripping the material apart. He stuffs his hand into the hole he created, searching around for the key we're looking for. I can tell his skin has met the cool feeling of the metal key when I see a grin form on his face. He pulls his hand out, beaming with pride as he holds the key between his fingertips.

"You're a genius, Jin!" I exclaim.

He brushes off non existent dust from his shoulder. "Yeah, I am." I shake my head and laugh before announcing to everyone else that we've found the key. Relief floods through all of us now that we can leave, hopefully without incident.

That relief I felt for one split second gets trapped into my chest and morphs into something negative. It turns into fear, unease, trepidation. The feeling wraps imaginary fingers around my heart, seizing it, twisting and turning the organ, causing it to tighten. I can feel my face go from bright and cheerful, to stormy and downcast.

We were so close. I didn't want to see anyone lose their life. I've never seen so much death before, and that scares me. It scares me to think about how their family and friends will never get to say goodbye, that they'll mourn the loss of that person for the rest of their lives. But it also scares me that life will go on without them, people will go to sleep, wake up, go to work, meet their friends for drinks, laugh, listen to new music, they'll do all of those things without them. Life goes on, even when they don't. It'll never be the same, but people will still live out the rest of their lives. They have to, I know that, but it's scary, and sad.

"Yoongi," I tremble, "your shadow looks strange." Yoongi glances down to look at his shadow. Though he stands perfectly still, the shadow that once only followed his actions, is now acting on it's own, squirming and contorting into unfamiliar shapes. Yoongi curses under his breath, understanding what this means.

Hoseok turns to face him, tears already swimming around his usually bright eyes, his bottom lip quivering. "Please, no," he cries out. Yoongi's face twists and scrunches in a pained expression, due to Hoseok's plea. The usual bickering and teasing that Yoongi attacks the younger boy with, not brought up.

"There's no way out of this, is there?" Everyone's silence answered his question better than any words could have. He drops his head and hunches his shoulders in defeat, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. I choke back a sob.

Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep his tears at bay. Namjoon tries to reach out for Yoongi, but the older only holds his hand out to stop him and shakes his head. It's too dangerous to come near him now. "We can't do this without you. I can't do this without you." The tears began to stream down his cheeks. I want to wipe them away, and hold onto him, but I can't find the strength to move my body.

"If anyone can get through this, it's you. You're the strongest person I know."

Namjoon shakes his head back and forth, his hair flying around, looking like a mad man.

A few more in the group gasp and quickly stand away from a girl who's shadow is moving strangely, just like Yoongi's. It's latching onto, and finding new victims, and if we don't leave soon, it could take down all of us. Yet, I can't bring myself to move, I can't bring myself to leave Yoongi behind. Even if I wanted to, I know none of the boys could.

Hoseok falls to his knees, letting out bitter sobs. Jimin shakes his head, repeatedly pleading him not to leave. Taehyung's eyes burn red, tears spilling from his eyes like a waterfall. Jin tries to comfort Jimin and Taehyung by pulling them to his sides, but I can see the pain laced in his expression, the pain I know he's trying to conceal to be strong for everyone else. I look for Jungkook, but I can't seem to find him. If he doesn't already know what's going on, I can't imagine having to deliver the news to him later.

The girl that fell victim to the shadows, I try to burn her image into my mind. I try to remember the freckles dotted on her nose and cheeks, her lavender hair, and her glowing eyes. Even if that's not what she looks like in the real world, I swear that I'll never forget the people who died today. Life will continue, but I won't let it go on without them. I'll keep them in my memory, I'll carry them in my heart. I'll keep Yoongi in my heart.

I shut my eyes when I hear the girl let out a scream, afraid to see the same outcome of the boy and girl who lost their lives earlier. I know that image will haunt my dreams for the rest of my life. I know that if the shadows have taken her, that they've taken Yoongi too. My cheeks glisten from fallen tears.

I force my eyes open, knowing that we need to leave before anyone else shares the same fate, but when I do, Yoongi is still there, and his shadow has returned to a normal state.

"Did it leave you?" I ask, confused, but mostly relieved.

"I'm not sure, but for some reason I'm still alive," he replies, "and I'd like to keep it that way, so let's get out of here." None of us have to be told twice.

We run, careful to avoid the shadows. We run from the darkness, we run from the monsters, and we run from our dead comrades. I still feel a pang in my chest when I think that Yoongi almost became one of them. I don't understand why the shadow decided to leave Yoongi. I don't understand how he survived, but I'm glad he did.

When we return to the main hall, the overhead lights have turned back on. I feel skeptical, afraid that the lights will go out again, but as this is the only exit, there's not really any choice. I avert my eyes from the sunflower painting, knowing that under it is the boy who died for his admiration of art. I no longer see light and beauty when I look at this picture, I see shadows and death. Chills crawl down my skin.

When we get back to the double doors, I suspect that we'll have to barge through the doors to get them open, but with the slightest pull of the handle, it swings open. Something doesn't feel right. If this building and the shadows inside it were created to keep us from getting the key, why would it let Yoongi go? Why would it let any of us go?

It's strange, but I'm not complaining. As soon as I step outside, the cool air biting at my skin, I gladly breathe it in through my lungs. I was afraid the last air I'd breathe would be the stale air of the museum. I didn't think I'd make it out alive.

"We made it," Yani says, relieved. Even the girl who seemed to live for danger seems to have had enough. She looks to me. "We have a house just outside of the city. You're welcome to stay if you want."

"I have a lot of friends. We come as a package, all or nothing." I point to the seven boys behind me. They smile weakly at the girl, but I can tell from the way that it doesn't reach their eyes that they've seen too much today.

She looks skeptical, but she eventually shrugs. "The invitation still stands."

I look to the boys for confirmation. They all nod, seeming grateful to have a place to stay. I am too. I can't imagine traveling overnight. After today's events, I don't think I could be out in the dark. I gladly accept her invitation, and begin to travel to her house to settle in for the night.

My body and eyes feel heavy, and my mind feels clouded. I keep seeing the boy and two girls that lost their lives today. I keep imagining the light bulbs burning out. I keep shivering, not because I'm cold, but because thinking of darkness and what it did to those poor people, terrifies me. Every time I see a shadow cast by a tree, I pause, trying to remind myself that it can't hurt me anymore, that the shadow won't rip away my flesh.

I rub at my eyes, trying to get rid of the tears forming in my eyes before they can fall. I try to steady my breath, hoping to get rid of the tightness in my chest, but my breathing is labored.

Namjoon seems to have noticed. He slows down his pace to walk beside me. I feel his fingers lace with mine. He squeezes my hand in assurance. I squeeze back, needing to feel the warmth of his skin, needing to feel his presence.

"It's okay, Wren. It's over now."

I shake my head. "No. It's only just begun."

__________

A/N -

This chapter was intense. I think it's the best chapter I've written??

I just got my braces tightened so wow pain. And I got that job I was talking about, and I'm starting this week. I feel so nervous. While talking to the manager my chest felt so tight, my leg was shaking, and I felt like I was going to throw up. I just love anxiety.

I started a new story. It's full of poetry, and I'm really excited about it. It's called Meraki, please check it out and give it lots of love.

Saranghae, my turtle doves ✌🏻