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wintryethereal · 4 years

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Shift: Captured Memories

Captured Memories — 2

Description: Kim Hongjoong was completing his road trip to his friend Park Seonghwa's house in Chuseok city and stopped to fill his car with fuel and ask where Dawny Road was. He was given false directions and trespassed on the property of Ha Minkyu and kidnapped. Minkyu sent a message to Seonghwa the next morning: he would leave Hongjoong's corpse at Seonghwa's doorstep the morning of the following Friday, if Seonghwa didn't surrender. Seonghwa sent one of his best Stars to infiltrate. The information the member came back with made Seonghwa's decision to free Hongjoong clear, but the catch of becoming the owner of the estate revealed Ha Minkyu's secret to Seonghwa and made him unsure if he could win with his Stars alone. Luckily, he had also been informed about the wishes and secrets of Minkyu's servants and fifteen year old son.

Genre: Supernatural x Mafia ATEEZ

Pairings: Seongjoong, Seonghwa x OC, San x OC

Story Rating: 18+

Chapter Content Warnings: Violence, course language, non-consensual sexual contact (off camera this chapter).

Word Count: 9346

Note: The language Master (I ain’t spoiling anything, folks) speaks with San is the Elvish of my own Nursery series. This will be explained in a later chapter, but I thought it was worth bringing up now. The Elvish a pig Latin language. It, like other parts of the Nursery canon, is something I love practicing and playing with in fanfictions. You might be able to figure out what they’re saying before the language key is implemented into the story. Good luck if you decide to decipher it, and don’t worry too much if you can’t understand what they’re saying until then! If you want to come back and translate what they said for yourself, have fun.

ALSO POSTED ON AO3 AND WATTPAD BY AUTHOR AS wintryEthereal

Hongjoong drove down the highway in the late morning of Friday, November 20. He was a little too warm, so he turned down the fan to a lower setting. His eyes flicked down to his dashboard. The hand on the fuel gauge was about where it should be for Hongjoong to stop for gas without being in a panic. He thought about whether he should stop at the gas station that he would be coming upon soon, or if he should keep going and refill later. He decided the first option was wiser. He saw the Petro-Canada building on his left, a few minutes later.

Hongjoong turned on his blinker, looked to make sure the road was clear, then steered onto the dirt road and pulled into one of the aisles. He turned off the ignition, grabbed his wallet from the console and exited his vehicle, closing the door behind him. He stuffed his wallet in his jeans and lifted the gas tank door, grabbed the nozzle from the pump, fit it in his car, and interacted with the pump. Hongjoong watched the screen, and once the tank was full, he removed the nozzle and returned it to the pump. He closed the gas tank and went inside the convenience store.

Hongjoong stopped at the till and said to the male employee who was there, "$116 on pump 2, please."

"OK. Will that be all, sir?"

"Yep."

"How will you be paying?"

"Debit." Hongjoong answered. The employee nodded, then slid the machine slightly. Hongjoong tapped his card, and the machine made a noise.

"Thank you."

While putting away his card, Hongjoong asked, "Could you tell me where Downy Road is? My friend said it's after this gas station, but he didn't tell me which side of the road he said it's on, and I'd hate to drive past it."

"Take the first right. Downy Road is linked to Bawdy Road all the way down at the end."

"Ah, OK. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Have a safe drive!" The man waved.

Hongjoong waved back as he made the short distance to the door. "I will! Bye."

"Goodbye." The employee replied, as the door closed. He watched Hongjoong reach his car and turned his back to the door of the store, picking up his cellphone from the table across the till. He opens his messages and texts the person registered as 'Boss':

A gullible friend of Star is coming to what he thinks is Sir's house. Bright red hair, green eyes, short. Drives a silver Hyundai.

He watched his phone for a short time, then heard the tone of his conversation partner typing and saw the bubble with moving dots. The message read:

Thank you. I'll make sure he's met well.

The man smiled wickedly and turned the app off before turning off his phone and pocketing it.

—

Hongjoong only had to drive for another two minutes to find Bawdy Road. He switched on his blinker before turning, then steered into the gravel road and drove onwards. Both sides of the road were heavily forested with pine and a surprising amount of saskatoon bushes. Seonghwa had told Hongjoong that there were lots of bears around Chuseok because of the abundance of berry bushes that could be found in its forests. 'It must be dangerous to have his house so close to a forest, but probably appreciates the seclusion.' He thought.

Hongjoong came to the end of the road, which turned left into a paved half-circle. The two-story house was mid-olive green with a black roof, the windows and shutters black and the door and balcony that wrapped all around the second floor also black. Two black cars were parked in the lot, close to the door. Hongjoong stopped before the curve. That was not Seonghwa's house. It was much too big, and it was the wrong colour.

He'd been lied to. But why? Hongjoong's stomach churned in worry. He looked away from the house and was turning his head to look out the rear window and leave when he saw a seven foot tall creature with dry, golden skin in the passenger window. White strings of hair hung from its limbs and head like an elderly man. Its body was malnourished with a depressed belly and ribs that looked ready to puncture through the creature's skin. Its giant eyes were black and didn't reflect the sunlight. Its chapped lips formed an evil grin as the boy met the monster's eyes.

Hongjoong screamed. His hand scrambled to put his car in reverse. He heard the passenger window break and winced, closing his eyes so that glass wouldn't come into his eyes. He felt a bony hand grasp his nape and pull his head up. Hongjoong tearfully looked at the monster, its face inches away from his own. It smelled like gold and semen.

The creature's other hand suddenly reached for Hongjoong's neck, and its index finger dug into the boy's trachea. His reaction to the monster's scent turned into pain that he was unable to vocalize. The creature hummed a few notes in a low register. Hongjoong's eyes became heavy, and his head dropped. The monster stopped singing, pulled out his finger, and blood gushed out of the wound.

"Sahikto." The monster cursed, covering the injury with his hand. Its voice was thin yet loud, and sounded parched. "Dinikdin'ni'to moeani to'o peokhre tohato dineep. Saorryi abouto tohato."

It fished Hongjoong's body through the window. "San. Chomoe outo, peheasae." A boy with brown hair with a blonde streak who wore black jeans and a black blouse stepped out from the cover of the trees left of where the car idled. He hurried to the monster and walked with him to the house. "Run'ni aheadin anidin perepeare tohe toabhe phor tohisa boyi. He waaikhh nieedin saunrgeryi."

"Yiesa, Moastoer." Replied San. He ran to the door, entering the house and leaving the door open for the creature. San proceeded in the foyer past the silver stairs dressed in red carpet that came down on both sides in an arch. The light grey polished tile squeaked under his shoes. The white drywall flew past his vision like a child racing their toy car.

San threw open the door to the small room and flew to the cabinet right of the metal operating table. There was a chair on the left side of the room with leather straps attached to the arms and legs. The floor was white tile, and the room had no windows or decorations. San snatched gauze, medical tape, the bottle of sterilizer he knew was open, an encased needle, a rubber tourniquet band, medical tubes and a clear bag of anaesthetic from the cabinet. San closed the locker as the monster entered the room.

San placed the gauze, tape and sterilizer on the cabinet and hung the bag on the IV stand. The monster laid Hongjoong on the table and placed his left arm on the adjustable metal table. "Ik torunsato yioun cani toakhre tohisa phromo here." Said the monster.

"Yiesa, Moastoer. Sahahh Ik peunto hikmo ikni tohe basamoenito?" San asked. He had connected the bag to the tubes and was linking the tubes to the needle.

"Yiesa. Moakhre saunre he waaikhh be comophortoabhe." The creature said. San wrapped Hongjoong's left arm with the rubber band poked the nerve of his elbow, pushed the catheter, and removed the needle, leaving the catheter behind. "Toreato hikmo hik'khre a gunesato." San nodded, dropping the needle in the garbage bin beside the cabinet.

"Heto hikmo khrniowaa hiks saiktounatoikoni." The monster said. San held his right hand on Hongjoong's wound. An azure blue light came from San's skin, mingling with Hongjoong's and stopping the bleeding. "Ik waaikhh tohiknikhr abounto waahato to'o rehayi to Saikr."

"Yiesa, Moastoer." San replied. The creature hummed, then left the room. He heard its thudding steps go to the foyer. His mind recalled the broken groans of pain and the grotesque sounds of the shrinking skin of his master. In particular, he remembered literal gold falling from the monster's skin and collecting on the snow covered stone balcony on the roof.

San's eyes drifted to a near close as he thought his then fresh wound. His master started to cry when he saw he had hurt San, and he reached out a hand. Master stuttered, “I'm so sorry… you have… permission to go where you want to heal, tonight.” San went inside the house without another word. His master's bedroom felt especially massive and empty, in the moonlight.

Yoonha started to sing. She had waited until the end of their fight to begin her nightly serenade. She had a lyric soprano voice type. Although ‘Phorgikvniesa’ was sung in mezzo piano largo, Yoonha’s voice carried through the hallway and echoed in the foyer, a little. San walked past her room and rounded the corner two doors down, leaning against the wall and letting his body slide down until he sat on his rear. San began to heal himself, the blue light brilliant in the shadows.

Master’s footsteps came down the hallway and stopped at Yoonha’s open door. San heard him enter the girl’s bedroom. He tried not to imagine Master touching Yoonha as the girl softly moaned through her song. Master was using her powers to heal himself as he couldn’t do it himself. San couldn’t picture himself touching Yoonha so that he was the one causing her to make such pretty noises. He couldn’t with the knowledge that Master was the one creating those reactions, at the time.

Soon, Yoonha stopped singing. Her groans became short and quick, and then she let out a longer noise. San clearly heard her pant once, and the following breaths were softer. Master hummed with content and said, “Goodin’nighto.”

Yoonha replied, “Goodin’nighto, Moastoer.”

“Khreepe saiknigiknig, peheasae.” Master said. Yoonha made a noise of reply, then Master left her room and returned to his own, sighing. San heard the man’s bones crack as he raised an arm to soothe his face. Yoonha resumed singing. San waited a few seconds longer, then walked to the doorway of her bedroom and stood there.

Yoonha was dressed in a light grey, furry bathrobe, its string tied around her waist and its collar dipping low to partially expose her chest. Her thin black hair went almost halfway down her back, and her skin was a gorgeous dark tone. She was eight centimeters shorter than San. The left wall and the one where the door came from were full of theatre posters, some framed and hung on nails and others thumbtacked. Her bedding was white and yellow, the bedsheet brown to match her furniture and bed frame, and the chair at her desk where a computer was set up had a yellow cushion.

Yoonha felt San’s presence and turned her head away from the window to look at him. She beckoned with a hand for him to come closer, and so he did, coming to a stop beside her. Yoonha took San’s hand that was on his chest and lifted it to see. His wound was almost gone. Yoonha bobbed her head upon seeing this and let San’s hand rest on his body again.

She put her hand on his, and a daffodil yellow light came from her skin. The colours mixed and became a warm green, and both let out a sigh, Yoonha’s vocals tenderizing with her breath. They gazed into each other's eyes and smiled, enjoying the energy between them. A break came in the song where Yoonha was required to sing ‘la’, and San heard her voice in his head.

‘Are you feeling OK?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for your help. You must be tired, now.’

‘Yes, I’m a little sleepy. You know how much energy it takes to heal Master.’

‘I do. How is Chankyu?’

‘He’s fine. He was heating up so quickly, I wasn’t sure I could calm him down in time. But he heard me, and now he’s asleep.’

‘That’s good. Have you heard anything, tonight?’

Yoonha shook her head slowly. ‘No. This isn’t good. You know what this means for us, and for Master and Chankyu.’

San sighed. ‘Yeah. At least we have plans for when it comes to that.’ The break of the song ended, but rather than continue singing, Yoonha stopped. ‘I’m still worried, though. Do you really think our new Master will be better to us, and everything?’

‘I do, yes. Have faith, San. We’re good creatures, and Chankyu is a good boy. We’ll be alright.’ Yoonha said.

San nodded. “Sing with me?” Yoonha asked, tilting her head with a small smile. San beamed, nodding. “Two, three…” Together, Yoonha’s voice served as the structure for the melody, and San’s fluttering voice served as the decoration.

“Ik waaikhh rechahh yiounr vikoche,

Andin ikni tohe saunriksae, Ik waaikhh have hearniedin oph hove.” Their song complete, the friends smiled, removing their hands from San’s chest. The light went away instantly. They hugged for a long moment, then they said ‘goodnight’ and San left the bedroom.

San cleared his throat and brought his thoughts back to the present. Hongjoong’s wound had healed during his space-out. San’s magic was still active. “Oops.” He yawned and ceased his powers. He gently felt Hongjoong’s neck to make sure his windpipe was fixed.

Nodding, San took a shallow dish from the cabinet and put it on the table. He poured sterilizer into it and dipped the gauze in the liquid. San cut off a bit of tape with scissors from the cabinet that he put back in the container it came from as soon as he was done with them. He removed the catheter, covered the tiny hole with the gauze and taped the piece of cotton on Hongjoong's arm. San took the anesthetic down, sealed the bag and disconnected it from the tubes, and put it away.

San went to the sink left of the door and washed the tubes thoroughly with water, followed by sterilizer. He closed the bottle and put it and the tubes away, then lifted Hongjoong onto his back, draping the boy’s arms over his shoulders and holding his legs close to his ribs. San left the room, closing the door behind him, then went across the hall and opened the door. He flicked the switch up, and the lights of the basement came on. San did his best to go down the stairs gingerly so he wouldn’t wake Hongjoong, though he knew the anesthetic wouldn’t let him wake up that easily.

The laundry machines were across from the stairs, a large freezer left of them. A cold room made the wall that was on the left side of the stairs, if one was coming down. The cell on the remaining wall was ten meters long and five meters wide. A reasonably comfortable looking mattress with a black fleece blanket was against the wall, and the concrete flooring was covered with a grey wool rug. The basement was clean and quaint, even if the cell stuck out like a sore thumb.

San stopped at the right side of the cage where it faced the stairs and held out his palm. Its door swung outwards, then San stepped inside and laid Hongjoong on the mattress. San left the cell and closed the door, which clicked into place. He squatted by the freezer and plugged in the night light that was on the floor by the vacant outlet. San sighed and got to his feet, then marched upstairs, turned off the light and departed the basement.

San knew that Master would want to be alone in his office, and that Yoonha was occupied with her duties in the forest. Mingi was probably tending to his plants and might appreciate some company, and Jongho was probably taking a nap in the barn. He hadn’t heard anything from the barn in hours. He decided to check on both his friends. San went to the end of the hall, passing the open library on his right and its white wicker chairs and couch that had rose red cushions, its glass coffee table, its white oak bookshelves and the ivory that hung from the ceiling in white plastic pots near the windows that had light, white curtains. There was one door following the small medical room, and that room was a bathroom.

San came outside and breathed in the mild, fresh air deeply, closing his eyes to absorb the scent of the forest and garden. The fifty by eighty meter lawn was occupied by flowers with a path leading from the door and around the curves of the flower beds. To the left were six white wooden boxes with strawberries, raspberries and carrots. Chicken wire was attached to a lid on each box to help stop animals from foraging. The white framed greenhouse with plastic walls and a wooden door was on the other side of the yard.

The white and green barn was on the far side of the property, left of the circular flower bed in the middle of the yard and ten meters away from the white gazebo with a black roof. The gazebo was big enough to house a wooden swing on the right and a glass table with four metal chairs that had green cushions. There was another twelve acres of forest that belonged to Master. A 250 by 200 meter section, to be precise. San spotted Mingi in the greenhouse and walked there, opening the door and grabbing the tall boy’s attention.

“Hi, Mingi.” San said, closing the door behind him.

Mingi wiped his brow with the back of his hand, smearing a bit of dirt onto his skin. “Hi! I heard screaming. Did Master kidnap someone? Their car was still running when you went in, so I turned it off. The keys are in the basket with the others. I labelled them ‘stranger’s keys’.”

San laughed. “Thanks Mingi.”

“No problem.”

“But yeah.” San sighed, stepping forward and cleaning Mingi’s forehead with a few gentle brushes of his fingers. “He got a text from Seojoon. This guest is a friend of someone in Star and wanted to know where Dawny Road is. Seojoon gave him the wrong directions, for some reason.”

“Seojoon is gay, you know. He probably wanted to impress Master in hopes that they might get together.” Mingi chuckled. “Ambitious little demon, that Seojoon.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” San sighed again. “I feel bad for Sir. He’s in over his head, and he doesn’t even know about our guest, yet.”

Mingi nodded. “Me, too. It would be nice to have someone like Sir as our master, though.”

San quirked an eyebrow. “Do you think Sir would even want to be our master?”

“That’s a good question. Sir is busy as is. He might not even survive.”

San shook his head. “No, I think he’d survive.”

“You do?” Mingi replied, leaning his arms against one of the boxes.

“Yeah. Sir has to be at least a decent person, to have a gang that does good things. But like you said, he might not be able to because of his existing responsibilities.”

“But then…” Mingi’s face fell. “We won’t have a home. The imps are one thing, they’ll go back to Hell. But the pond is broken, so we can’t leave. San, he’ll have to become our master. It’s life or death for us.”

San lowered his eyes and frowned. “You’re right. I forgot about that.” He ran his hands down his face. “What can we do to let Sir know that we need him?”

“Master is thinking of what to trade with Sir for our guest, right?” Mingi questioned. San nodded. “I bet that Master wants to own everything that Sir has, for Sir to completely surrender. It’s in his nature, his sin. Is there something we can slip into the message to warn Sir about Master?”

“Warn him, and then what? Master isn’t weak to bullets or blades. Sir would have a death wish, if he were to seize our house. Sir would have to…” San’s face stilled, his mouth open.

“What?” Mingi asked, quietly.

“Infiltrate. Mingi, that’s it!” San hoarsely exclaimed. “Sir will decide to infiltrate our home to scope it out, right?” Mingi bobbed his head.

“Sir will send his scout out at night; that’s just common sense. One of us will sneak out and wait for the scout to arrive. Our person will tell our story as much as necessary and convince the Star to go home with the information. Master won’t be able to interfere if…” He swallowed. “If Yoonha agrees to help distract him.” He groaned and made a face. “Ugh, I hate that part.”

“I understand your feelings for Yoonha.” Mingi shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of her asking to please Master.”

“Me either. She’s never done it before. Master would become suspicious.”

“But she’s so good at comforting him. She’s one of his only comforts… maybe she can come up with a lie so Master will be more likely to accept?”

San nodded. “Maybe so, yeah. She has the right kind of personality for it, definitely.”

“So that’s settled, unless Yoonha says ‘no’.” Mingi said, and San nodded more. “Which one of us do you think should meet the Star?”

“Chankyu. He’s the only one of us who Master won’t suspect. He goes out at night sometimes, remember?”

“Right, yeah! Yoonha does, too, to stargaze.”

“Right.” San nodded firmly.

“Hey, wait! She might be able to come out, after she’s done with Master. The Star might want to hear her out, too.”

“Mm, yeah. But what if the Star doesn’t trust either of them?”

“Then…” Mingi stared at the floor. “That part of the plan fails. Then what? And what if Yoonha doesn’t want to help out with Master?”

San grumbled and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, right now. I’ll have to think about it, more.”

“I’ll try to think too, but if I think too much about something that serious, the garden will look weak in the morning and Master will want to talk to me. But I’ll try.”

San gave a small smile. “Thanks, Mingi. Don’t worry about it too much, OK? I really don’t want you to get in trouble. It’s fine if you focus on your garden.” Mingi bobbed his head, smiling a little. “I’m going to talk to Jongho about this, and then I need to see if our guest is awake. Have fun with your plants!”

“I will! Have fun too, I guess.” Mingi laughed. San giggled back, then the two waved and San left the greenhouse, closing the door. San travelled to the barn and opened the rightmost door just enough so he could see inside.

Jongho, who had California blond hair, was asleep on the top of the hay bales at the back of the barn. If he were to try and stand, he would only be able to straighten his back halfway. San smiled upon seeing the sleeping boy. “Cute.” He mumbled.

The four horses welcomed San to their home with their eyes. The chestnut close to Jongho, on the left side of the structure, whinied. Jongho stirred, quietly mewling as he sat up, rubbing one eye and looking at San with his other, half-opened eye. “Hi, hyung. What’s up?”

San walked further into the barn, coming to the hay. “I need to talk with you about something. I just came from the greenhouse.”

“Oh? Is everything OK?” Jongho shuffled forward on his knees and swung his legs over the edge. “I kind of heard something, outside. Did Master kidnap someone, again?”

San nodded, chuckling silently. “Yep. A friend of someone in Star. Seojoon gave him the wrong directions. Mingi thought it was because Seojoon wanted this to help him start a romance with Master.”

Jongho guffawed. “Fat chance. Master isn’t gay.” San laughed loudly.

“OK, we didn’t think about that. Anyway, since Master is thinking of what to tell Sir he wants in trade for our guest, we know that Master will want Sir’s everything.” San said. Jongho nodded softly, humming. “Sir will send someone to scout our home at night, so our plan is to send Chankyu out to meet him.”

“Who’s going to distract Master?” Jongho threw up a finger. “Wait, no, let me think…” He made a face. “Ew, Yoonha? Do you really think she’ll agree to that?”

“Maybe. Probably. I know how fed up she is with doing favours for Master, already, so that’s the only counter to her agreeing. But we all want him gone, and Yoonha’s a smart girl, so I want to believe that she’ll say yes.”

“Chankyu will say yes, for sure. It’s worth a shot. Asking Yoonha to help, I mean.” Jongho said. San bobbed his head. “So what are we gonna do if the Star panics and tries to shoot Chankyu?”

San quirked an eyebrow. “Did your brain forget that Chankyu is Master’s son?”

“Oh yeah…” Jongho replied. San giggled. “The plan has to work. At least on Chankyu’s end. If Yoonha can’t distract Master for long enough, we’ll have to step in.”

San made a small noise, shaking his head. “No. I’ll have to step in. You and Mingi have never fought Master before. You wouldn’t last two seconds against him.”

Jongho looked offended. “Are you forgetting my faces?”

“That’s not what I meant, Jongho. I’m not saying your lion face is incapable of fighting. Even your ox and eagle faces could fight. But Master is stronger than you are. It would break my heart, and Mingi, Yoonha and Chankyu’s hearts, if he hurt you.”

“Like how he hurt you, two winters ago?” Jongho shook his head. “I already have scars, hyung. Our world is hurt, just like you and me. Actually, so is this world.”

“I appreciate your worry for me, but if our plan goes wrong and Master tries to go outside and hurt the Star, I won’t let you fight Master alone.” Jongho’s face was red with warmth. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He spoke with a dry mouth. “Maybe, if we work together, we won’t get hurt so bad.”

San kept eye contact with Jongho for a moment. He knew Jongho would keep his word and come out and fight Master with San, regardless of what he said next. San sighed tediously and nodded with a heavy head. “OK. I’ll fight with you, if it comes to that, Jongho. We won’t even need to practice, since we know Master so well.”

Jongho said, “I think the only thing we’ll have to worry about is Yoonha. She might accidentally get hurt by Master or us.”

San nodded more leisurely. “I agree. We’ll have to be wary of where she is. We should try to take it to the forest too, so we don’t have to fix the house.” Jongho bobbed his head. “I think that’s everything I need to tell you?” San turned his eyes to the ceiling in thought.

“I can’t think of anything else we need to talk about, either. But I’m sure you’re going to talk with Yoonha and Chankyu to get more ideas, so we’ll talk later.”

“Of course. The five of us will have a chance to talk together this evening, anyways.” San said. Jongho jerked his head. “I’ll let you get back to your nap.”

“Nah, I shouldn’t sleep for any longer, if I want to sleep tonight. I was going to take Seungmin out for a ride after my nap, too.”

San giggled. “How long were you planning to sleep in here?”

“Only an hour. I fell asleep at nine.” Jongho pouted. “Why?”

San laughed. “It’s twenty to twelve, Jongho.”

The younger boy gave an exasperated sigh. “I guess I’ll take Seungmin out after lunch, then.”

“Why don’t you head inside and see if Yoonha wants to start making food? She’ll give you something to do, at least. I’ll walk you there. Need to check on our guest.”

“Sure.” Jongho replied, his voice strained from motion as he dropped two rows down. He stepped onto one bale of hay before he was safe to skip the partial row of hay onto the concrete. San led Jongho out of the barn, though Jongho paused to give the chestnut’s muzzle a pet. “I’ll be back in an hour, and then we’ll go for a ride, OK?” Seungmin whinied in response.

The boys left the barn, San closing the doors. He picked up the white wooden plank on the ground and dropped it into place on the doors. The two glanced at the greenhouse, wondering if Mingi would notice them. After a moment, he did, waving excitedly to his friends. They waved back, laughing.

San and Jongho reached the back door and came into the house, San opening the door and Jongho closing the door behind them. They scuffed their feet on the mat, then proceeded to the foyer and looked left into the kitchen and right into the dining room. The kitchen counters and tiles were white and the appliances steel, everything spotlessly clean. There was a pair of transparent glass vases with fake red roses and baby’s breath on the island, and another plastic white pot of ivory hung in the window that faced the front yard and dressed with curtains matching those in the library.

“She’s not in here.” Jongho stated. “Must be in her room.”

The dining room furniture was white oak with red cushions. The long table had ten chairs with simple back railings plus two with taller back railings on the ends. A red table cloth ran along its polished surface, and three more transparent vases with red roses and baby’s breath were on the cloth. A grandfather’s clock was in the far left corner, beside a window with the same curtains as the room across the hall. A beautifully crafted white chest was against the left wall, two meters behind the chair.

Jongho and San went up the rightmost staircase. San rounded the right corner and came to the door on that wall, while Jongho went to the other end of the hall. San knocked twice and said, “Chankyu? It’s San. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, come in.” A teenage boy with a lyric tenor voice answered. San opened the door and peeked inside. Chankyu’s black hair was fringed and had long, split bangs. He had a small nose and dark blue eyes.

Chankyu sat on his bed reading a hefty book. His bed was red with furry throw pillows and black metal framing, and it was six meters away from the door. His walls had colourful, graphic murals of a man and woman fighting dragons and monsters. The large window behind his bed had light filtering red curtains. His wooden nightstand on the right side of his bed was black, and so was his desk, where a computer was set up.

Chankyu reached over to his nightstand, grabbing the shiny, black bookmark with a black string and placing it in his book. “What’s up?” He sat forward and dropped his book on his bed as San entered the bedroom and politely shut the door behind himself. “Oh…” Chankyu pursed his lips and lowered his volume. “Something Dad shouldn’t find out, eh?”

San sat on the end of his bed. He spoke at a low volume, as well. “Yeah. You saw what happened outside, right?” Chankyu nodded. “Our guest is a friend of someone in Star. We think Master is going to ask Sir to surrender everything he has in trade for him.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. His sin is greed, and Sir has a lot of things for Dad to take.” Chankyu said with a blunt tone, reaching over to grab his red water bottle and taking a long drag from it. He licked his lips and put the bottle back.

“Sir is likely going to send a Star to look at this place. We’re hoping that you’ll go out and talk to him about our situation while Yoonha distracts Master.”

Chankyu raised his brow. “Has Yoonha agreed to this, already?”

San shook his head. “We haven’t talked to her, yet.”

“So if she says ‘no’, you’re just gonna fight Dad so I can talk with this guy?”

“I guess so…” San’s eyes fell to the blanket. “We haven’t talked about what to do if she says ‘no’, yet.”

“Is it just gonna be you fighting him? Is Jongho going to help?”

San nodded. “Yeah, Jongho will be helping.”

“Oh, OK. Well, I know just what to tell whoever comes here, so you don’t have to worry about that. But Yoonha…” Chankyu hissed. “She might say ‘no’. You two have a special relationship. Everyone in this house knows that.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that.” San tucked in his lip.

“But she might say ‘yes’. Out of all of us, she’s the best liar. Dad can’t detect lies with his powers, so that’s a plus for us. You know what? I’m not worried about her saying ‘no’, now that I’ve said that.” Chankyu said. San nodded.

“I am worried about how badly Dad’s gonna hurt you and Jongho, if something goes wrong on her end. Especially since Star is kind of on my ass about my little crimes.”

San’s eyes flew open. “Chankyu, no. You don’t have to go on a killing spree just to help us.”

“I will have to, if he hurts you badly enough. You can’t use your powers if you’re like that. You’ll black out if you try. This is one of those times where we have to trust each other, right?” Said Chankyu. San bobbed his head reluctantly.

“Then, let’s trust each other.” Chankyu threw himself back to lay on his bed. “Maybe Sir will overlook my criminal record and be my friend, as our new master. Heh heh.” San chuckled and laid on his side, at Chankyu’s left.

“Aw man, that’s gonna be a hell of a surprise for Sir, isn’t it?” San said. Chankyu hummed, nodding. There was knocking on the door. San turned his body to see. “Who is it?”

“Jongho.”

“Come in.” Chankyu said. Jongho entered and closed the door behind him.

“She’s in.”

“What?” San responded, sitting up rather quickly.

“For real?” Chankyu propped himself up on his elbows.

“I know, I was shocked, too.”

San said, “I didn’t think you’d tell her about our plan, right away.”

“Oh, you thought I’d just ask her to let me cook with her, huh?” Jongho replied, and San bobbed his head. “Well, I did, and she said ‘yeah’, but she knew I had more to say ‘cause I never come in her room.”

“True, you don’t.”

“It smells so nice in there.” Jongho said, scratching his head with a flushed face.

“Just like daffodils, huh?” Commented Chankyu. Jongho jerked his head enthusiastically, a little smile on his face. San giggled at his reaction.

San inquired, “So how did you ask her about… what she’s going to do?”

“I told her about what Chankyu was going to do and what we wanted her to do. Before she could answer, I told her what would happen if she wasn’t able to distract Master for long enough. She said ‘I hope you’ll take it outside so we don’t have to repair the walls and stuff.’, and I said ‘Well yeah, of course.’ ”

“Did she look… troubled, when you told her about her job, in our little mission?”

“For a second, when I was talking about ‘plan b’, she looked angry. Or frustrated. She tucked in her lips and closed her eyes.”

“Ooh, she was angry, all right.” Chankyu said. San and Jongho gave him puzzled looks.

“How are you so sure?” San asked, his sentence broken into sections.

“Really?” Chankyu looked surprised. “Do you not remember the look on her face, whenever Dad leaves the room after playing with her?” San nodded slowly. “She’s pissed at him. She wasn’t angry at you, Jongho.” Jongho bounced his head up and down.

“I know the way she looks at you, San. The way she looks around when she talks about you. She’d be happier than a cannibal with a pile of warm corpses if Dad was dead. You know how much she yearns to be with you, San.” Chankyu said.

San spaced out as Chankyu talked, envisioning an autumn day, last year. Yoonha was outside with Chankyu and had squatted to cry, her body mostly concealed by the flowers. Chankyu rubbed her back and looked up to the windows of the library to meet San’s eyes. The boy’s stare was intense and expectant. His power surged forth redness in his irises as Chankyu relayed a message: “This can’t go on forever.”

San shook his head and replied: “But it might.” Chankyu frowned and looked at the grass to lose himself in his memories. San bit his lip and went away, retreating to his room to cry. Along with other futilities, San and Yoonha’s romance was impossible because of Master.

Master had forbidden Chankyu from exploring his powers, so there were only Warm Embers and a dog bored in Hell. Furthermore, Master’s weakness was hidden somewhere none of them could find. Master had wounded the boys, even Chankyu, when they searched for the treasure. Master had yet to have sex with Yoonha, but it was a matter of time before Master got bored of favours and wanted her virginity. It was a wonder he hadn’t done so, already. But that was because lust wasn’t Master’s sin.

San shut his eyes tight. He knew that turning point was what he was afraid of. Yoonha’s body would be strong enough to grow a nephilim full term. The possibility of her surviving labour, however… San groaned and let his body fall flat on Chankyu’s bed. He covered his eyes with one arm and closed his eyes.

“Deep in thought, I see.” Chankyu said, but San barely registered his voice. Yoonha had needed San since the first time he had embraced her after Master had used her. San had been brought to the estate that day. Yoonha had bawled in his chest and found comfort in him from that night onwards, even after Yoonha became accustomed to her role in Master’s life and told San that he didn’t need to come and check on her, anymore. San liked to hold Yoonha. It was his own comfort. A pure one, immeasurably far from the kind Master had with her.

He knew their love, no matter how early in bloom, would help Yoonha’s spirit fight against evil, if Master impregnated her. But San knew it would only protect her so much, because they hadn’t made any milestones, hadn’t made any memories. And that was where the powers of Heaven came in, that was what separated the servants, and, in part, Chankyu, from Master. Master was forgetful and lowly, simple minded and pathetic with sparks of brilliance and terror. Even as a human, he slept almost all day and only woke to fulfill his body’s basic needs.

Now and then, and at times like this, San was reminded that Heaven was technically on their side. The Fourth Circle was pitiful, its demons predictable and ugly. God would be thankful, if Master was returned to his place. He might fix the pond, and then they could go home. San’s fretful face changed into bliss as he thought of the Garden.

It was so beautiful, and went on as far as pangea had. He missed the saints, especially Faith and Emmanuele. San thought of his herd and the passage of rite he had been torn from right under the watch of Chente. His lip quivered as he recalled how his heart raced as Master pulled him through the pond. He saw Master and screamed. San tore at the grass helplessly. His ankles were sore from how the demon held him.

Chente rushed forward with his lucid power, within the fraction of a second it took San to blink. Chente grabbed San’s hand, and suddenly the saint’s panicked expression turned solemn. He said, “You will come back, so have faith and be good.” And let go, the damn sheep.

San’s face became heated, and he spun around on the bed, grabbing one of Chankyu’s pillows and burying his face in it. Chankyu and Jongho glanced at each other. Jongho quietly sat on the edge of Chankyu’s bed. Chente could have saved him! He must have heard Raphael and been told to let go. San had realized this was fate long ago, but he still hated it.

He should be travelling the Garden with his friends or courting the pretty doe he was dotting on. He deserved that life. He had dreamed of his home and singing just to sing, of dancing with his friends and sitting by the river with the doe, but Master and Hell always ruined the peace. The waking world was kinder, even though Master was there. Mingi, Yunho, Chankyu and Yoonha were there, and Earth wasn’t all that bad.

San would have been able to choose where he wanted to spend his life, had it not been for Master. His choice had been made for him. God’s law had been disrupted, and the saints were capable of correcting that. But San had been let go to… what? Again, right now, San was frustrated because he didn’t know where all of this was going.

“Dad’s going to die.” Chankyu said, frankly. San moved his head to look at the teenager. “That’s where all of this is going.”

Jongho choked on his breath. “You shouldn’t say that so loudly, Chankyu…”

“So?” Chankyu shrugged. “He knows that I hate him.” He lowered his voice. “The only risk is if I talk about you guys so loudly.”

“I thought you couldn’t read minds?” San questioned, pushing himself up to sit.

“Me too, honestly. It must have been because you were thinking so hard about your anger.”

“More evidence to suggest that your sin is wrath?” Replied Jongho, tilting his head.

Chankyu shrugged. “I guess so. Anyway, San: if Chente said you’d come home, to have faith and be good, I’d say you’re on the right track. So far as I know, you’ve been good to everyone here.”

“I’m positive he has been.” Jongho stated, shaking his head and shrugging.

“In that case, you’re sure to go home, after all is said and done. Which means Mingi, Jongho and Yoonha will get to go home, too. Your species don’t interact much, if at all, but now that you’re connected through memories, you’re sure to meet again, yeah?” Chankyu said. San jerked his head up and down. “Then that’s that! I know how hard it is for all of you to be so far from home. Hell, even I don’t feel at home here.”

“You wanna go to Hell?” San chuckled, blinking.

Chankyu shrugged with pursed lips. “Never been there, before. I hear it’s fun to explore, beyond the Circles. Maybe I’ll find some pals to journey with. Battle buddies, ya know? I don’t care what Circle they’re from or their gender and etcetera, so long as they’re decent.”

“That makes sense, for you, Chankyu.” Jongho said, looking around at the murals.

Chankyu smiled a little and looked around his room. “Yeah. It’d be nice to be free, like that. It’ll be good for all of us, when Dad’s gone. Let’s be hopeful, even if parts of our plan aren’t guaranteed.”

San and Jongho nodded. “All right, that’s all there is to say. Leave me alone now, will ya?” Chankyu reached for the book on his nightstand, opened the book and put his bookmark on the table. San and Jongho laughed while they crawled out of Chankyu’s bed and started towards the door.

“Thanks for talking with us, Chankyu.” Said San, turning his body to the boy.

Chankyu nodded with a tiny smile in response. “See you in a minute. Yoonha must be almost done with lunch.” San nodded, then he and Jongho left the bedroom, Jongho closing the door.

“Wait here, hyung?” Jongho requested. “I’ll run down to the kitchen and ask Yoonha if she’s close to being done.” San nodded again. Jongho trotted down the left side of the stairs.

San leaned forward against the railing, attention on the chandelier that hung in the foyer. It had a black frame, nine lantern shaped bulbs on the bottom circle and five on the second circle. It was the fanciest light fixture in the house. Every other was an unpatterned dome with a black frame. San sighed and scratched his brow.

This little mission of theirs was going to be unnecessarily bothersome. He consciously tried to push his worries about his friends to the back of his mind, but it only made his head ache. San rubbed his temple and leaned further into the railing. He wanted to just snap his fingers and solve everything in an instant. But he wasn’t that strong of a demon. He wasn’t even a demon.

San held out his arms and looked at his hands: pretty and soft yet, veiny and sexy. His species believed that those with hands like his were perfect, most desirable for breeding and service to God. At the time of his kidnapping, San had scarcely practiced his skills and had only recently begun to talk with the angels and saints about the House and what he could do to achieve higher living. Controlled blind faith, like controlled blind magic and love, was the most he knew. Because God gave freedom to mankind, their choices were both purposeful and random. The strength of one’s actions and words were dependent on one’s understanding of that freedom, it’s connection to God and all living things.

One didn’t need to believe in God to achieve that strength. The connection was faith in oneself and others, it was love, acceptance and the will to protect oneself and others. The ways of life in fairy tales and epics was, in those ways, the way of God. Those who could realize the endless freedom this meant would find happiness, regardless of fate and consequence, because the power of God would rescue the good from evil, no matter how long one had suffered. This meant that one could cheat their fate, and this was how Faith had discovered the way to defeat Benajah.

The most painful thing of all was not abuse or abandonment but time. One must understand that faith and the other links to God in order to withstand that pain and overcome it. Sorrow, anger, fear and loneliness were needed to reach joy, empathy, courage and company. Some could live their entire lives without experiencing the poor side of life first-hand, but others would live and die with that life. The role of those who knew people from both paths was also important, as their actions and words had the power to encourage or discourage change, positive or negative. But the goal was to see all of this and guide oneself and others, as much as possible, to goodness, so that victims, suspects and witnesses could reach utopia, even if that was not in life on Earth but in the technically non-existent afterlife.

The Nursery and Basement made the afterlife a reality, even if the Judaist way of God meant it wasn’t wholly true. Death was a blank slate of peace unless one had sinned or done a great thing, and then one would be damned or sainted. But the Nursery and Basement was created by the imagination of man, in a wonderful way. Dante Alighieri had created this canon, this place for the dreamers of man to be sent to after death. There were two canons, and both were good and filled the House with life.

“San-hyung!” Jongho called, spooking the boy so badly that his heart jumped in his chest. San lost his grip and threw his hands out to grab the handrail, spreading his legs. Jongho laughed. “You’re daydreaming a lot today, aren’t you?”

San cleared his throat and rubbed his chest. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Lunch is ready. Go and tell Master and Chankyu, please?”

“Wait, already?”

“San, I left you, like, three minutes ago. Yoonha only started cooking ten minutes ago.”

“Oh.” San heaved, bowing his head. “I’ll go and tell everyone.”

“Thank you, hyung.” Jongho smiled, then went up the hallway towards the library. San guessed he was going out to get Mingi. San went back to Chankyu’s room and knocked.

“Yes?”

“Lunch time, Chankyu.”

“OK, thanks.” Replied the teen. San went to the other side of the hall, stopping at the door that was attached to the wall that made the other corner. He knocked, then waited three seconds. He knocked louder. He heard Master stir with surprise.

“Yes?” The man’s dramatic tenor voice croaked.

“Lunch time, Master.”

“Thank you.” San went downstairs and entered the dining room. Yoonha sat at the very left end, her back to the corridor. The table was set with white plates with sandwiches, white bowls of what San’s nose determined was beef and potato stew, tall glasses and a plastic pitcher of water, and silver cutlery. San stopped behind Yoonha’s chair, and as the girl smiled, craning her neck to look at him, San smiled too, resting his hands on her shoulders and rubbing her joints.

“Hi, San.” She said.

“Hi.” He answered. “How are things, now?”

Yoonha blew air through her lips. San heard Jongho and Mingi come in through the back door. “Fine, I guess. Armaros was playing dirty, as always. He almost had my ass in his palm, but I got an assist from Titan and made it out fine.” San gave a noise of surprise.

“I thought you were going to get our guest?” Jongho asked, as he and Mingi walked into the room.

“Oh, shoot!” San jumped where he stood, pecked a kiss on Yoonha’s head without thinking, then dashed into the hallway and went to the basement. Yoonha tucked in her lips and gingerly touched her head. Mingi and Jongho had also sucked in their lips and glanced upstairs to make sure Master wasn’t there. Chankyu came down the stairs while the two looked that way, his head bowed.

Once he stood before the boys, he said, “I just felt Dad snap his head one way. He was looking at the floor so intensely I swore he was going to start firing lasers like Superman. Where’d San go?”

“To get our guest.” Mingi and Jongho lowly answered, peeking in that direction.

“Let’s excuse San’s slip-up by saying he was in a hurry and wasn’t thinking, yeah?” Chankyu said. Mingi and Jongho nodded shortly. Chankyu led them into the dining room. “That’s probably the truth, anyway.”

“I think so, too.” Yoonha added, clearing her throat and relaxing her posture. San almost slammed the basement door behind him. He regained control of his strength during the motion and closed it politely. San coughed twice and jogged downstairs.

He turned his head to look at the cell as soon as he passed the wall and saw that their guest was awake. Hongjoong was sitting stark upright on the mattress, his pupils blown wide. San came to a stop at the cage and opened it with his powers. The guest’s chest jolted back in shock.

San bowed his head slightly, folding his hands over his abdomen. “Hi, I’m San. What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Hongjoong.” No sooner had he said it than he bit his tongue and moved his eyes to the ceiling. He asked himself if he should have lied.

“Nice to meet you, Hongjoong.” San bowed his head again. “Sorry I had to put you in here. It was an order, you see. How’s your throat feeling?”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows jumped, and he touched his throat. His eyes widened in realization. “Did you do this?”

San nodded. “I was hiding in the trees. Master didn’t mean to poke you so deeply. He carried you into our medical room, and I healed your esophagus, then took you down here.”

“I see… what is your Master, if I may ask?” Hongjoong narrowed his eyes a tad.

“Master, as the audience have probably guessed, is actually Ha Minkyu, the owner of this estate.”

Hongjoong looked surprised again. “That was Ha Minkyu? I had no idea… Seo—” His mouth hung open for a moment. “—Sir probably doesn’t know either.”

“No one knows, except for the audience and those watching from Heaven and Hell.”

“The… audience?” Hongjoong repeated, almost closing his eyes in bewilderment. “You’ve said that twice, now.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it.” San threw his hand. “This Story must be consumed in sections, rather than all at once, by people like you who don’t know about the House and are not mentally ready to chew on that canon.” Hongjoong squeezed his eyes and slowly shook his head. “Let me just talk about Master, a little.”

“Please, yes.”

San chuckled. “Master is a demon of greed. We expect him to offer you to Star in trade for everything Sir has.”

Hongjoong raised his eyebrows. “You realize Sir is going to send someone to look at this place, right?”

San bounced his head a little. “Yes, we do. We have a plan, but I can’t explain right now. Master will suspect I’m plotting something, if we stay here much longer. Come with me, please?” He nodded to the exit. ”We’d like to have lunch with you.”

“You’re going to trust me not to run?” Hongjoong replied, lifting his brows.

San nodded again. “Yes, I am. Minkyu’s son is half-demon. Master has ordered him to stop guests who have tried to flee many times. Chankyu has Warm Embers. We don’t know much about his powers because Master doesn’t allow Chankyu to explore them. In any case, it would suck if I had to heal you again, right?” Hongjoong nodded.

“Then trust us.” San said. Hongjoong bit his lip and closed his eyes in thought. “I’ll talk more about Master and our world, when I bring you back here. Master is fine with us talking to our guests. He trusts us because we have been good to him.”

Hongjoong opened his eyes to look at San, huffing and smiling. “You sure are talking a lot, for someone who doesn’t have much time to explain.”

“Ah, you’re right. At least we can say I was talking about Master. Are you good at acting?”

Hongjoong swayed his head from side to side. “I’m all right, I guess.”

“Then act terrified of Master. He’ll stop asking questions and start talking about things we might not have predicted, then.” San said. Hongjoong nodded firmly. “OK! Let’s go.”

San led Hongjoong out of the cell, leaving the door open. As they came to the stairs San said, “The stairs are safe, don’t worry. No ankle stabbers.” Hongjoong laughed.

San opened the door and held it open for Hongjoong, who instinctively looked left into the dining room and found the scrutinizing stare of Minkyu. His eyes were a dark brown that seemed black, from a distance. His black hair had a slight fringe, his face, long and mask-like, bare of wrinkles. An unnatural thing for a middle aged man. San lightly bumped Hongjoong’s arm with the back of his hand, startling Hongjoong a little. Hongjoong heard a sound of amusement from Minkyu.

He followed San into the room, and Minkyu gestured for Hongjoong to sit to the right of the girl, who Hongjoong decided was Yoonha. A blond boy was on Hongjoong’s other side. San sat across from Yoonha, a tall, peach haired boy beside San. Hongjoong guessed the black haired boy at the other end of the table was Chankyu from his hair. The father and son’s faces were nothing alike, but their round ears were similar. Hongjoong wondered what else was different between the two.

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