Chapter Text
Tessa couldn’t believe her luck. She could already tell that night was going to be the most memorable night of her life.
Her favorite artists were on her town at last, and she had spent weeks preparing for it. She had gone with her friends to BTS’ concert, and had danced and sung and cheered until her throat hurt, cried while holding hands with her best friend because she just couldn’t believe it.
On top of all that, something even more incredible happened.
When they were performing one of the last songs, her bias winked at her.
She didn’t want to be so delusional, so she thought it was just fanservice.
But then it happened again. And another time after that.
The last time they came on stage he went down and started holding hands with some fans, one of them being her. Her mouth almost fell to the ground when she noticed he had left a note on her hand.
She quickly hid it, not wanting other fans to see it.
When the concert ended, she went alone to the bathroom with some poor excuse to read it on private.
There was an address written on it.
As quickly as she possibly could, she went to her friends an told them that something came up and that she wasn’t going to be able to go grab something to eat with them as they had planned.
Only after she arrived to the place she started feeling a bit scared. The place seemed to be an abandoned office building, with the windows closed with wood panels and the walls painted with obscene graffiti. There was not one soul in the streets, but she could hear dogs bark and some alarm going off.
The air was colder than she expected, making her get chills all over her body. It smelled bad too, a piercing smell floating around that she could only describe as the smell of rotten eggs.
The only streetlight on her proximity flicked, and she let out a surprised gasp.
She wasn’t feeling safe and she wanted to go home, but she couldn’t do that. She had already came all the way here to meet the man of her dreams, and she was not going to back out now.
Trying to gain some courage, she straightened and took a big breath before starting to walk towards the door.
She knocked the door two times, and was going to knock again when she realized the door had opened a little under her touch.
“Come in.” a smooth voice she knew very well said, and the familiarity of his voice made her relax a little. She had heard that same voice in thousand of videos on Youtube and other platforms, she knew it better than any other voice.
The inside of the building was just as poorly lit as the outside, but she could make out the silhouette of a tall and slim man sitting on top of a desk, facing the nearest wall.
He didn’t even look at her at first, focusing on playing with something on his hands, but she walked in his direction with small and unsure steps.
Suddenly, he moved and reached her, faster than she thought it could be humanly possible. She raised her head to see his face.
He was gorgeous, even more in real life than in photos, but his eyes were entirely black.
She stepped back and looked at his hands, which were carrying a small knife.
“We are going to have so much fun tonight.” he said, looking at her like he was a child that just opened the best Christmas present ever.
Sam opened the passenger door with one hand, entering the impala carefully as to not spill the coffee on the seats, a very necessary gesture if he didn’t want to get killed by his brother.
“They found another dead girl, this time in Fort Worth.” he announced, giving Dean his coffee before reaching to the folder he had in the glove box so he could add the girl’s information to the case files.
They were currently in Oakland, searching for demonic presence in an abandoned warehouse where the police had found a dead girl a few days ago. They had found some hints that suggested that there had been a demon nearby, but it wasn’t very recent, so the demon must had left the place as soon as it killed the poor girl.
“Don’t tell me, she had been to a BTS concert too.” Dean groaned as he got scalded by the too hot coffee.
“We are starting to see a patron here.” The younger agreed. “I’m thinking it could be someone in the crew.”
“But it could also be someone who attended all the concerts looking for a victim” Dean refuted.
“We can’t leave behind any theories, but I’m inclined to think it was someone in the crew. I mean, what demon would fly around the country to attend the same concert three times to look for a victim, when they could just get someone off the streets?”
“I don’t know, man. Demons are petty.” Dean shrugged. “Anyways, we should go to the next show, see if we can catch that son of a bitch.”
“That’s what I was thinking too. The next one is in Canada though.” Sam said with a little smirk.
“If you are suggesting we should go by plane you already have my answer. I’d prefer to lick Satan’s balls.” Dean huffed.
“Come on, Dean. We´d have to drive for, like, two days non stop to get there, and we wouldn’t be on time.” Sam argued.
“Can’t anybody else take the job?” Dean asked.
“You know we are the only ones who can deal with demons and remain pretty much intact.”
“What do you mean with ‘there are no tickets left?’ How famous can those korean boys to sell out a place like that?” Dean whined.
“Are you kidding me? They are all over twitter, I’m surprised you never heard of them before”
“I’m surprised you are still using twitter.” The older retorted.
After all Dean had to come through, leaving his baby in a too expensive parking because he refused to abandon it on the streets, flying on a plane while he was (reasonably) scared, and going to a country whose people were so polite he wanted to punch them, it turned out they couldn’t go to the fucking show because it was sold out.
“They are kind of impressive.” Sam admired while watching a video on his laptop, ignoring his brother’s mockery.
It was apparently a video taken on the last concert, and while they had wanted one that showed the arena rather than the performers, that was all they could find on the Internet.
“If one of them is a demon I bet is that little shit over there. Look at him, thrusting his dick all over people’s faces and looking so smug about it.” Dean pointed out.
“I doubt it’s one of them, it would grab too much attention. And his name is Jung Hoseok, artistic name J-Hope, not little shit.” Sam was apparently offended.
“Nerd.”
“Going back to the point,” Sam resumed “We should just infiltrate as security or something so we can actually go there and do our jobs.”
“Just say you want to go to the concert and go.” Dean said with a huge grin.
Sam knew better than to bicker with his brother after all those years if he actually wanted to get things done, so he ignored him and simply said:
“I’m tired of you.”
“What? It ain’t anything wrong with having a little fun.”
Yoongi got out of his bath feeling like he was born again. He enjoyed that moment the most, having a little time for himself after a concert or a particularly tiring practice. He was glad his group was famous and profitable enough to let them have separated rooms, as he took pleasure in being alone. His members were out having dinner, or at least that was what they had told him. Jungkook actually had begged him to come with them so they could all have fun together, but he was exhausted and the kid could sense it, so he didn’t bother him much.
He was drying his hair with a towel when he heard a loud noise down the hall. He didn’t thought much of it, for he was used to his bandmates being noisy, especially the younger ones.
They should have returned to the hotel earlier than he expected.
There was something he wanted to discuss with Namjoon, a part in a song he had been composing where he felt he could add a little bit of something but didn’t know exactly what.
He opened the door with the towel still on his hand, looking for the leader. He turned to the left and walked down the hall.
Then, a shrieking noise filled the empty hallway, followed by an obnoxious laugh and the flicking of the lights.
Yoongi wouldn’t admit that to anybody even in the verge of dying, but he felt panic flood his veins and ran back to his room, the towel left forgotten on the floor.
He closed his door as soon as he was inside, resting his back on it as he closed his eyes.
When he calmed down a little, he sat down on his bed and reached to grab his phone, which was on his nightstand charging. He quickly texted a short message.
Jin Hyung
Hyung, where are you?
I’m having dinner with Jiminie
Do you need something?
No, it’s nothing
Aw, Is my Yoongichi feeling lonely? ;)
A loud bang was heard, and it sounded like it was really close to his room. If he were in one of those horror films Jungkook loved, that was the moment he would go investigate and get killed.