Chapter Text
jimin was running.
gapsing, clawing at the earth with broken nails, jimin was running-- escaping. he is escaping his village, from the people whom he grew up beside- whose warm hearts he used to know froze over when he showed the first sign of magic ability.
his mother had been able to do witchcraft too, or so jimin was able to decipher through the screaming and objects being thrown at him- his mother, a woman he barely knew, bestowing him to this, a fate of death and harm. he can't find it in himself to have wanted to ever meet her, except perhaps just to go back in time and beg her not to have children. no one deserved this. the glass- the rope, the knives glinting in the warmth of the sun… no, no one should ever even have to witness this; the way blood looks as it pours from a wound inflicted by somebody who used to father jimin as one of his own.
he knew nothing of the supernatural-- was even gone as far as told it wasn't real, that the other children he grew up with were sprouting old wives tales that he should not take notice of. perhaps his father thought that if jimin knew nothing of magic that he wouldn't be able to channel it. oh how jimin wished he was right.
because when it came- and he will never forget it, engraved behind his eyelids just as much as the burning torches and pitchforks- he was terrified.
he had been watching two young boys picking on a puppy- a common sight as boys were easily bored and the village was small- but jimin never and still wouldn't sit by and watch it happen. he called for them to stop, to put the sticks down and go back home; that of jimin were to do that to them they wouldn't like it. the boys, miss nancy’s - not that it mattered now- had always been bratty, so when jimin intercepted them they simply stuck out their tongues and carried on. the first second jimin saw blood it was already too late. the sticks were wrenched out of their grips, thrown across the road, and suddenly rocks were cascading down on the two with no mercy. jimin was frozen; but somewhere inside of him, deep down where his mother's blood resided, he was satisfied.
that didn't last long, clearly not. the deep, pulsing lacerations and bruises were evidence enough of that. it led him to now, scrambling across the earth and tripping on thick tree roots to just get away, to be safe, if that meant anything anymore.
jimin was at the point of crawling when he reached the clearing; his flushed, tear stained face contorted in pain as he made his way through the tall grass; and he knew this was it. perhaps this was what he deserved, desiring two lives for one even if just for a second. time did not matter if the thoughts had already happened, the wicked person behind them still existed. maybe the people he grew up with knew him better than he did, they could spot an evil soul without too much effort.
accepting he was alone, accepting his death, jimin groaned out in pain and fell on his side which caused another wash of pain to radiate throughout his whole body. he curled himself into a ball, whimpering lowly to himself as he started to fade out, adrenaline wearing off and leaving him with excruciating pain like nothing he had ever felt.
suddenly, what was left of jimin’s hearing picked up what sounded like the snapping of a twig; the rustling of grass. the boy groaned again, a deep-rooted soulful sound, as if it was being forcefully drawn from his mouth. he barely had enough energy to look at what made the noise, the peripheral vision of his eyes fading out- but when he did, he had accepted his fate. he was going to die; be killed. and then eaten. it was a fox.
jimin promptly blacked out.