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Edinburgh castle, located in Scotland, a renowned and certified place for paranormal activity, a palace with a history of 900 years. Shadowy figures, sudden drops in temperature and the feeling of something tugging on your clothes are all everyday experiences in Edinburgh. If the castle's paranormal activity is not enough, Edinburgh also boasts the Mary Kings Close, an underground area of the city in which victims of the Black Plague were quarantined and left to die.
“An adventure, for sure”, Yoongi muttered, his eyes scanning through the information displayed on his phone’s screen.
The flight from Incheon international airport to Scotland took eleven hours and nineteen minutes, after boarding the airlines, Yoongi decided to feed his famished stomach and sleep through the rest of the journey. There had been no need to book a place to stay, Yoongi only wanted to visit the castle and return home assured that there were no such things as ghosts.
Nonetheless, the castle in reality was so astounding that its description on the internet did not do it justice. The castle walls were the strongest thing for miles around, yet when Yoongi looked carefully he noticed the stones. It was built of stones varying in sizes and shapes, each one having its own glamour, its own uniqueness. From a distance it was uniform grey, from up close it was a mosaic of humble rocks, each of them (nobody would think anything of) were they lost by the roadside. But together they were a castle, the crown of the landscape and former protector of its ancient people.
The tour hours finished at half past five, but tourists scattered earlier-superstitious of the mythical creatures lurking in the night. Yoongi waited for his "entrance," some guidance of a supervision to move out. A child skidded off in front of Yoongi, away from her mother-a minute later realizing that she was lost, the child’s eyes watered and her lips trembled but before she could cry; her mother was there to console.
Yoongi’s phone illuminated, a missive from Jimin, asking if he was alright. He answered in affirmative and silenced the device, his heart fluttered and a drop of precipitation trekked down his forehead, the wetness lingered between his palms and the nervousness kicked in. The blackness draped over the sky and the coast was clear; the night-time guard slumbering, Yoongi crept around the long walls of the castle and stood in front of the wrought-iron gates. The vastness of the entrance itself made him shudder, his heart palpitating-strenuously working to break free from its bony cage. Before the doors creaked open, they jerked once and trembled.
The fireless holders rekindling with a new flare. Yoongi gulped and continued inward. The rickety staircase leading towards the dungeons squeaked under Yoongi’s weight, the sound resonating around the four walls of the castle. The corridors were dimly lit with fire holders hammered every fifteen meters from each other. The wind blew inside through the cosmic and colossal windows; rendering the fire to dwindle before re-establishing itself.
Yoongi squinted in the ill lighting, ambling across the hallway, his fingertips caressing the rampart to memorize his only way out. The temperature dropped drastically, vapors of smoke flowed out as he exhaled, the tip of his fingers turned icy and numb and each step forward was more frosty as if sharp, piercing ice crystals were being hurled at him. His face flushed with color and his ears started to painfully ring. Yoongi gasped, desperate for a lungful of air-it was getting laborious to breathe. Yet, the fire scintillated brightly, uninfluenced and untouched by the bitter cold.
The only logical explanation was the location of the dungeon was underground and those areas were typically colder than others. Promptly, Yoongi was whisked forward-a strong tug keeping him from pivoting on his heels. The wrench flourished, a greater lurch each time-Yoongi was terrified. His fingertips had long forgotten the incarnate designs of the rampart.
His cluttered mind did not comprehend when the tugging had halted, and Yoongi did not want to wait for it to start again. As he whirled around to detect the staircase, a shadowy silhouette passed beside him, Yoongi rubbed his eyes and reopened to watch the shadow turn around a corner, a flute in its mouth.
Ten seconds passed. Fifteen.
There was a moment of suspended calm before, an onslaught of wailing begin-the lamentations intensified; becoming a deafening roar of protest. The torrent was so significant that it caused his ears to bleed. Yoongi’s eyes brimmed with tears, sweat making his clothes cling to him like second skin, all the fight left him-if he was to become a part of this ancient place, he would gladly-a pardoning from all this torture.
He became a crumpled mess on the floor, his shrieks of help harmonizing with the screeches of the unknown. All at once the screams became quiet, replaced by a classic melody-a piece played from a flute. Yoongi heaved and choked–panic-stricken as the tune grew near. He firmly knitted his eyes together; a whimper still escaped his closed lips-a prayer for his sanity.
Every sinister happening ceased as a pair of footfalls sounded, they grew closer and closer until the echo diminished altogether. At a snail’s pace, Yoongi opened his dilated pupils, his heart beating at a tumultuous rate. The stranger standing before him had very big, slightly almond-like eyes, wonderfully plump and moist lips. But his skin had an ashen hue to it as if all the blood had been drained form his circulating vessels. And something about the person was not quite right-his body was translucent almost of the consistency of the clouds.
Yoongi mewled, horror coating every inch of his body. He stood up on his quivering feet, hands clutching the wall for support. Even at his full length Yoongi was a few inches shorter than the stranger.
“Hello.” The stranger said, his voice reverberating through Yoongi’s bones.
Yoongi frowned, “What in the hell?”
The person scowled, Yoongi staggered backward, afraid of the unrevealed powers he possessed. For the very first time, Yoongi felt petrified-so very intimidated by an anatomy resembling his own.
“What are you?” Yoongi’s disbelief was schooled on his features, the frown accentuated by the dull luminosity of the flickering flames.
“A ghost who just saved your life.” The ghost scoffed. “A thank you would suffice, wouldn't it?”
“Tha-Thank you.” Yoongi stammered, his voice broken and his throat parched from dehydration. Incredulity lingered like a deep sea, so dark and quiet. Yoongi’s acknowledgement had been fueled by the sick anticipation of the near future. Although, Yoongi was in denial of encountering an inhumane being, he was still prepared to do anything he was asked for, as long as his survival was warranted.
The silence was becoming unbearable, Yoongi longed to hear those wretched and agonizing cries again-but that seemed as if it had occurred ages ago. The foreigner had strolled to the far end of the crevice and tapped his foot to a steady beat-if waiting for Yoongi, he did not know.
Yoongi swirled around, scouring the corridor, in the hopes of locating the origin of the staircase but was left disappointed-the flight of stairs had vanished completely-no evidence of their essence in existence. Had he imagined it? Than how was he able to descend the corridor? The ghost was still there, peering strangely at Yoongi, as if the otherworldly being was him and not the former. Was Yoongi envisaging him too?
Yoongi screamed, wanting to terminate his uncontrolled thoughts, wanting to become as composed as he had been back at home. His phone vibrated, the screen lit up through the fabric of his jeans-incoming call, it said.
“Don’t mind picking that up.”
Yoongi ignored the warning and answered the call anyway, “Hello?” Jimin’s voice was being doused; all Yoongi heard was static, the voice damping each passing second. His confusion was short-lived as the phone began to heat up and emit electric current, all he could do was toss the device on the floor and watch the phone burn, in alarm.
“Warned you, didn’t I?” The ghost scorned Yoongi.
Yoongi glanced over; the phantom was still standing erect in his position, at the far end of the passageway where it split up into two narrower corridors. Yoongi had lost all sense of direction-he was trapped. When the shock of helplessness subsided to a dwindling patter, Yoongi’s irises widened and it seemed as if he just realized that he was far from home and conversing to a spirit-that may or may not be a figment of his imagination.
Yoongi faltered, shrieking with all his might and when his lungs stopped supporting him, he took a deep breath.
“No, no, no, no.” he clutched at his lose wisps of hair, pivoting around, looking for an escape that was nowhere to be found. Yoongi refused profusely, he did not want all of this to be veracious. But the presence was as stubborn as him; Yoongi denied to acknowledge the Ghost just as the Ghost was unwilling to go away.
It took a moment for Yoongi’s breathing to gain its regular rhythm. The phantom remained in his position, still, and watching Yoongi with shimmering eyes. Yoongi peered at the creature through his eyelashes, fearing the unknown, of the forces the ghost could procure, Instead of elevating Yoongi and choking him, the creature nodded, an encouragement for Yoongi to step forward. But, his bones refused to compel, the simplest of the functions the body could perform was unfamiliar to him.
“What’s your name?” Yoongi questioned, preparing his tarsals to fulfill their purpose.
The otherworldly arched his brow, flabbergasted. “There is no need for introduction.”
“Then, what am I supposed to call you?”
Promptly, without thinking, the Ghost scrunched his nose. “Just call me Jin.”
Yoongi saw Jin’s irises glaze over, his pupils widened. Yoongi recalled a science lesson in which the teacher had described the structure of the human eye and had explained that the eyes dilated due to happiness, fear or love. Yoongi decided that Jin might had been remembering the past of his mortal life because there was nothing to fear and given the circumstances in which they stood, both were far from love.
Jin smiled, and the beam reached his eyes-they sparkled as sapphires, bright and hard. Yoongi nodded, caught in a trance rendered by Jin’s ethereal beauty. Just several minutes ago, Yoongi had been sure that he was losing his mind and now, suddenly, he had been ignited with a sense of belief. A belief so strong that it almost didn't occur to him that he might have be conversing with an entity, a living soul lost and wandering aimlessly in his world due to some unfinished business.
Yoongi shook his head, scattering his domineering thoughts, focusing on one thing prior to others. “Can you show me the way out?”
Jin tilted his head to the side, assessing Yoongi as if analyzing if he was worth the effort. Yoongi had seen a fair share of such an expression to know one, and it disheartened him for in the wake of such a gaze always came the word “no”. The mortal pivoted, his head hung low. Mortification, crimson and enraged crept past his neck and settled on the apple of his cheeks.
“Well, why not?”
Yoongi was baffled, his hands trembled and relief turned his bones to liquid. His features lit up with a flare but before he could have become nonchalant, Jin intervened.
“But, magic always comes with a price.” Jin warned, his fingers splayed on his chest as if it hurt him.
“Magic?” perplexity was etched on Yoongi’s face. “What’s magic got to do with it?”
Jin gasped at Yoongi’s bewilderment, “What? The question should be what’s magic not got to do with it?”
Yoongi shifted his irises back and forth, he didn’t know that his mere query would be the reason to pique Jin.
“Look, it isn’t that simple.” Jin sighed, gazing at the former. “To get out of here, I’d have to open a portal and that requires magic.”
As the words escaped Jin’s lips, Yoongi’s incertitude heightened. Portal? Magic? He was familiar with such words, and he read fantasy novels all the time, they were second home to him. But to be stranded inside a dungeon with a magic portal an only way out was a situation Yoongi could only dream to be held in.
Yoongi took a quivering breath, attempting to calm his aroused nerves and collect his thoughts. “Okay, open it, I’ll pay the price.”
Jin nodded, a remote twinkle in his eyes.
Yoongi proceeded to open his lips but before they could have parted, a gush of fierce and robust air lifted the two, teleporting them to an area similar to their previous location but the gold wall was unmistakable, from it protruded a annulus like a wreath hung on doors.
“What’s this?” Yoongi’s fingers sought out to prod the piece, but Jin was quick to catch his dainty wrist in a firm hold.
“Don’t touch things you don’t know about.” Jin said, hastily letting go of Yoongi’s wrist. “Be careful next time or else you would be burned meat.”
Yoongi’s emotion altered as swiftly as lightening, from curiosity to shamefulness to coyness and then, abruptly, to indignation.
“Next time, there will be no next time.” He gave a grim chuckle. “After I get out of here, I’ll make sure to forget this stupid incident.” Yoongi halted, unsure of his succeeding words but taking a profound breath, he said. “I’ll make sure to forget you too.”
Jin groaned, sagging his shoulders. “You mortals speak so surely of things, foolish of course.” He snorted, rubbing his face as if he was wearied. “But I don’t blame you, I was mortal once too.”
“What did you do to be stuck here?” Yoongi’s annoyance had faded away, replaced with inquisitiveness. Jin saw the interest in the human’s profile, and fondness filled his empty vessel. Jin noticed that Yoongi’s impenetrable eyes and inscrutable countenance gave little away but he felt emotions with his soul.
“I don’t recollect, but I still have fragments of my mortal life.” Jin whispered. “Being immortal does that to you. We have to go on forever or at least a thousand of years, so we chose to forget things.”
“So, you don’t die?”
“Oh no, we don’t die,” Jin rolled his eyes as they darkened. “We, in simple words, fade. But there has to be a grave betrayal.”
“What sort of betrayal? Betray what?” Yoongi inquired.
“You, young man, are full of questions.” Jin cackled, pushing Yoongi to face the annulus. “But we don’t have time for this, and you will forget this anyway.”
Jin dismissed the conversation and returned to the task, scrunching his nose, he proceeded to rub his chin in thought. “Let’s see,” Jin said, breaking the silence, rendering the somber Yoongi to get startled.
Placing his slender fingertips on the object, Jin caressed each circlet positioned inside the larger one. “The star, the eye and the sun.” as Jin tapped each of the three circlet, they glowed, grumbled and swiveled, vanishing to be substituted by an in-explicit and ambiguous grey mist.
“Think of a place you want to be at, and remember to picture it clearly.” Jin turned to Yoongi, smiling.
Yoongi nodded and closed his eyes, endeavoring to picture his apartment’s living room. A crash that sounded from behind him impaired his illustration. Yoongi whirled around and goggled at a fallen Jin, hurled against the wall, breathing heavily as if in throe. All at once, Yoongi abandoned the portal and rushed to help the collapsed male.
“What’s happening?” Yoongi screeched, placing his palm on Jin’s shoulder but his fingers penetrated through it, Yoongi tried again-frantic yet, determined. Jin preferred to endure the most excruciating pain, rather than answer Yoongi. After a while, when the pain had alleviated, Jin gasped as if speech itself were an excruciating effort, “Remember when I told you magic comes with a price.”
Yoongi nodded, doubtful.
“This is it.” Jin wheezed. The paleness of his skin proliferated, his physiognomy became vague and unclear, and the separation between each feature began to deteriorate. Yet, his sparkling sapphire eyes gave him away, Jin was lying and Yoongi knew him enough to believe it.
“Are you fading?” Yoongi cried, frustrated and uncertain-wishing to ask so much but time was wicked.
“Yes, I am.”
“But, you weren’t supposed to fade until-” Yoongi moaned, realization was quick to come, and it battered Yoongi into remorse. Still, struggling to clutch at the skin that was rapidly transforming to mist.
“Listen, You have to leave,” Jin paused, squeezed his eyes, wrinkles folded around them, and clenched his teeth. “Now go.”
Yoongi didn’t move, every muscle in him was taut, his body ached to help. “I know this isn't about magic and paying the price. Tell me what's happening? I need to know.”
“You won’t understand.” Jin’s face closed in a grimace, he screamed with rawness, the realness of a person consumed by a pain that knew no end or limit. Then he went quiet, just panting. Yoongi was there at his side, at least he being there showed Yoongi cared about him.
Yoongi wanted to push Jin and yell at him. “Make me understand.”
“I came to you, to be freed by you, I knew it would fade me. For to come to you was forbidden, yet to stay away was burdensome. So I made my choice, and because my heart strayed where it should not, now my mind must pull back to the confines in which it was permitted to roam all along,” through the paroxysm, Jin chuckled. "It was bliss to break free for a while, if only for a while."
"What are you saying?" Yoongi scrambled to grasp Jin's fingers, but it seemed laborious now.
Between spasm of pain, Jin cackled again. "Being a ghost is like following a religion, we are sworn of rules and if we break even one of them, the consequences are grave".
Jin jerked, arching his waist to ease the pain. "I broke the ultimate law-I broke it because I was desperate for humans to see the good in us. Refraining from helping a mortal in need and making them believe that ghosts or other unworldly beings are real and kind and helpful, this is the supreme law ."
"But, I don't believe in these things." Still, Yoongi struggled to clutch at the skin that was rapidly transforming to mist.
Jin's smile was dejected, "Amor, you started believing in me the minute I told you I'd help you."
Yoongi disregarded the words of the man in the jaws of the death, as his cornea brimmed with tears, no one had showed such a great extent of kindness and selflessness to Yoongi before and he couldn't deny Jin's words-they were the truest words he'd heard.
So Yoongi whispered one thing that he could managed to articulate. “Thank you.”
Jin seized Yoongi’s wrist, though, he had been weakened due to exhaustion of the immense pain he bared. Yet, his hold was as firm as the first one. “Promise me, promise me you’ll remember me as Kim Seokjin. Even if it’s in your dreams. Say yes and it’ll be worth all the effort and agony.”
A tear streamed down Yoongi’s face, he bit his lip. Stroking Jin’s almost vaporous hand and smiling gingerly, he whimpered. “Of course, I’ll remember, you’ll be hard to forget, Kim Seokjin.”
“That I’ll be.” Jin affirmed, tittering softly that was curtailed by a ponderous choke.
Yoongi gave Jin a last look of appreciation as he stood on his quavering knees and heeded attention to the disregarded portal, its magnitude had contracted but still served its purpose.
Yoongi peered behind him, averting his eyes to find Jin, to make his name known as well, but, Jin had already receded from view just as gracefully as he had appeared, leaving behind a dented wall as a remnant of him being there. Yoongi wiped his dried face, and willed the new ones to go away as he perforated through the portal with only one place in mind.
Pureness. Kindness. Selflessness. Fondness. Yoongi would associate these words with only one individual. He would remember Jin at every moment of the day, at every dusk and dawn, he would write this in his journal because even if his mind chooses to neglect, he would be reminded of it every day. He would tattoo the name if he had to and it would be the only greatest fairy-tale his children and grandchildren would know.
“Yoongi hyung!” a shrill voice, octave as high as a songbird, bellowed his name. Yoongi inclined toward the sound, startled out of his stupor, realizing that he stood outside Jimin’s house and watched the troubled owner approaching him.
Taking Yoongi in his arms, Jimin murmured in his ears, “Are you alright? I was worried sick. How did you come back so quickly? How was your trip?”
Yoongi hummed, weariness pushing down at him like lead. Jimin held him for a while, swaying the two of them back and forth, it lulled Yoongi to sleep, but, a star glinting in the sky, so dazzling and bright caught his mind. It seemed so akin to Jin’s orbs as if the star itself was a manifestation of them.
Yoongi beamed back at it, all drowsiness that had engulfed him before vanished and instead he hoped against hope that the star glistening so brightly in the inky sky was Kim Seokjin-the kindest of souls.