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Wonwoo wasn't too used to strangers. As a general rule of thumb, he kept to himself, moved in the same circles. He was safe. He kept himself safe.
He had cursed when the medallion made its way to him. He had considered pissing everyone off and not showing up to the meeting slash funeral. But, in the end, he had opted against that idea. Tempting as it was, he had an image to uphold. He couldn't raise suspicion against him. It was hard enough as it was.
The medallion was heavy against his leg, safe in his pocket. His hands crisped when the guards moved away to give him space to walk in. He was already on edge, his nerves a mess, with the blatant flaunting of wealth. He had to walk numerous hallways through the Bloodstone house until he finally made it to the basement.
The walls felt like coming on top of him, closing in. His finger found the collar of his shirt, too tight around his neck. The place was stuffy, and full of trophies.
His eyes wandered, getting caught in every trophy mounted against the wall. Heads. Monster's heads, taxidermied, fangs on display, fur matted, specs of dust in the ridges of the skin. Wrong. Nauseating.
A hand on his shoulder startled him, taking him back to the situation at hand. He turned around to find a familiar smile directed at him, eyes crinkled in delight.
"Jeon Wonwoo," Soonyoung said, smile so big he could almost count all his teeth. "It's been a while."
Wonwoo felt himself smiling. "Too long," he replied, and felt like he meant it. Soonyoung wasn't as terrible as the rest of the guild of Monster Hunters. Wonwoo was familiar with his work.
Monster Hunters were ruthless. They showed no mercy; they were never taught how to. They tore and killed and displayed heads of living beings on their walls. But Kwon Soonyoung wasn't like that. He never struck to hurt; he was never cruel. He went for the kill, quick and as painless as possible. His goal was never to boast about his killing count; it was to prevent harm to humans.
As far as Wonwoo knew, that had been the case with the guild when the original bearer of the Bloodstone founded it. Along the many years between then and now, that had changed.
Many times, he had thought about talking to Soonyoung. To have a real conversation that wasn't a facade. Ultimately, he never did. But that day, he'd win the games, and he'd have the guild. He'd finally have real power to change things.
Soonyoung was about to reply, but he didn't have enough time to do so. The house's Butler passed by them, power walking, it was obvious he was doing everything not to fully sprint. Both their eyes followed the man until he was beside the grieving widow.
The Bloodstone widow was entirely wearing black, head to toe, a lace veil covering her face. Still like a statue in the middle of the room. And yet, when the Butler made it to her side and whispered he's here she grunted. Wonwoo wasn't sure if everyone heard or just him, but he guessed the first option since the room was quiet enough.
She walked to the door, her boots stomping against the polished floors. Everyone followed her path with their eyes until she was out the door. Soonyoung shrugged beside him and walked away, finding an armchair to sit on. Wonwoo kept unmoving, focusing. He was able to peel off the sounds, classifying them until he identified the voices he was searching for.
You are not welcome here.
To my father's house, for his funeral? Just because you married him after my mother died doesn't allow you—
You deserted him, you abandoned him in his sick years.
Don't act like you cared about him. I'm here for my birthright.
It is not yours anymore.
Something crashed down and Wonwoo's eyes snapped back up to realize it was just Soonyoung who had examined a lamp from way too close until it fell and shattered on the floor.
In that moment, the Bloodstone widow came back in, followed by a man. A man that Wonwoo had never seen but heard stories about.
Lee Chan. The Bloodstone heir. Vanished, exiled, fallen from grace. The last rumours Wonwoo had heard were that he was in another country across the sea, but his actual whereabouts were secretive. Not many people thought he'd come back, but now that the stakes were high, he was there.
The widow walked to the front of her audience, almost like an actress performing on a stage. She opened her arms as everyone gathered around her. Wonwoo remained in the back, opposite side to Lee Chan. He eyed him as the widow went into a rant about her beloved husband before he passed. He had his arms crossed before his chest, and his eyebrows were furrowed. His eyes were focused and cold, icy even, his chestnut bangs falling onto them and giving him a look of mystery. It sparked Wonwoo's curiosity, and in that second, Chan's eyes snapped to him. His expression didn't change, and Wonwoo challenged him only for a few seconds, to not look weak, not when the widow was explaining what was about to happen.
He finally looked back at her as a few house workers came into the room carrying an oranate box. When they opened it, everyone leaned forward, entranced. Everyone wanted to have a good look at it, hands crisping on their laps, itching to touch and grab. Everyone except Wonwoo, instead, he took one step further from it and its shine. His eyes swiped across the room and landed on Chan again. He was already looking at him.
Luckily, his eyes snapped back at the widow when she cleared her throat, all eyes going back to her again. She reveled in the attention.
"As you know," she said, every word studied. "The natural heir of my husband's Bloodstone and following Handler of the Guild was supposed to be his son, but he lost said right. Instead, we have set out gardens for the occasion, and all of you, the best of the best, will have the chance to win."
"Excuse me," a woman with a thick accent said, a snarl on her lips when she shot a glance at Chan. "We were all invited here. We have the medallions to prove it. But he waltzes in and gets a chance just as the rest of us?"
Chan's jaw was set. He didn't move a muscle. Instead, the widow replied, after a dramatic pause:
"He will participate. But he is fair game, just like the rest of you."
That seemed to settle it. The woman looked satisfied by the answer, so their group followed the widow to the exit of the basement and up the stairs until they got to a back entrance that led to their gardens.
Still, gardens seemed like it wouldn't cut it to describe it. The mansion was surrounded by several acres of forest, and the widow guided them resolutely to the entrance of a maze. They all stood in front of a table set by the entrance, there were only two things on it. A scale and a box.
One by one, each of them but Chan, dropped their medallion on the scale and shoved their hand inside the box. Wonwoo was a little sad to see the medallion go; he had grown fond of it, even if it wasn't his style, too ornate and pompous. He grabbed a small tile from the box and ran his thumb over the painted face.
"Lucky," Soonyoung said to his ear. "You get to go first."
The widow opened her arms dramatically, startling Wonwoo before he could even really make his way to the entrance of the maze.
"Remember," she said, raising her voice even when their group was so small. "The last one standing will get to claim the Bloodstone title, and for that, you have to slay the monster hiding inside the maze. The stone is already doing its work on it, you just have to retrieve it."
Wonwoo refrained from scoffing. Just retrieve it. As if it were as easy as it sounded.
His mind went back to the heads hanging from the walls back in the basement, and his hair stood on end. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the image, and he caught sight of Chan in the corner of his eye. He was looking at him. His cold eyes made Wonwoo feel like a bug under a microscope.
Before the widow could utter another word, Wonwoo walked forward. The leaves crunched under his boots and the wind howled as it grazed the cups of the trees. The maze was made of solid white stone and he walked inside. The temperature immediately dropped when he did.
They had all been stripped of their weapons. The only authorized ones were lying around the maze, some were hidden between bushes and in nooks and crannies. Wonwoo ignored them all, even when he saw them clearly. He only stopped to grab an explosive he thought might be useful, and kept walking around the maze.
The sounds were the most unnerving. There was an owl at the top of a tree, calling for its mate. Somehow, he kept stepping on every single stick; the breaking sound jarring to his ears. The leaves crunched under his weight, and he could sense the other hunters running around the maze.
He heard Soonyoung right away. He still let him surprise him, one hand on his shoulder again, another had a tight grip on an axe.
"Be careful," he said, pointing at the turn of a corner. "I'd be disappointed if you lose your head here."
Wonwoo nodded and watched him go, hoping Soonyoung would also get to keep his head by the end of the game. He kept walking, avoiding at every turn any of the other competitors. He heard them fighting and struggling, and the sound of blades cutting through the air. He wasn't there to fight them, though.
The monster found him first. He had been walking around in what he thought were circles when a hand emerged from a bush and grabbed his jacket.
"Shit," Wonwoo hissed, shoving the hand away. "You scared me."
"Sorry," a familiar voice said, and a head came out from the bushes.
Wonwoo sighed, already done with Mingyu's apologetic look. He had mastered the kicked puppy eyes, which was ironic in a way.
"Don't give me that look," Wonwoo reprimanded, pushing Mingyu back into he bush and hiding with him there. "I'm getting tired of you always getting captured and me having to save your ass."
Mingyu flashed him a smile and his fangs caught the moonlight. Any normal person would have been scared, some sort of primal horror installed in them. But Wonwoo was not like any normal person, so he only rolled his eyes.
"You have a plan, right? You always have a plan."
"Of course I have a plan," Wonwoo replied, shaking Mingyu's grip off his shirt so he could show him the explosive. "I'll blow one of the outer walls so you can escape through there, and I'll say the explosion killed you."
Mingyu nodded his head and opened his lips to say something, only to turn his head to the side.
"Someone is coming," he said, pushing Wonwoo out of the bush.
"Don't die," Wonwoo whispered as the bush shook while Mingyu escaped. "I'll find you later."
He turned around to leave the scene, but instead, he found himself face-to-face with no other than Lee Chan. He was raising an eyebrow at him, a set of throwing knives secure in his hand, ready to fly towards Wonwoo if needed. They looked sharp.
"Who are you talking to?" Chan asked, and something inside Wonwoo stuttered.
His hands went up to try and fix his shirt, wrinkled now. Then he shrugged and offered a smile, non-threatening. Still, Chan's grip on his blades tightened, ready to throw them.
"Me?" He asked. "No one. Why?"
"You were talking to someone," Chan said, walking slowly towards him. His feet made no sound as he pointed the knives at Wonwoo's face. "Just now."
"Oh," Wonwoo tried to laugh, taking a step back. "I have the habit of talking to myself out loud."
Chan's eyes narrowed. "Do you think I'm stupid?" He asked, and Wonwoo's smile dropped.
"No, no," he said, his voice coming out genuine. Maybe for the first time that evening. "Not at all, I—"
"What do we have here?"
Chan turned around immediately, and Wonwoo felt better now that his blades weren't pointed at him. He saw the woman from before standing in front of him, a cocky smile on her lips that very much looked like a snarl.
"Move along," Chan said, waving his hand like he was swatting an annoying fly. "I got to him first."
The woman had a very pointy-looking spear and she pointed at Chan.
"I don't give a shit about him," she said. "I want to take you out."
Chan laughed bitterly, and something inside Wonwoo regretted that he was standing behind him and couldn't see his face while he did.
"I'd like to see you try."
Before she could lounge towards Chan, Wonwoo blended himself against the wall and made his escape. Leaving like that wasn't very honorable, but he would much rather live to see Mingyu and him make it out alive. So he tuned out the sounds of their fight and ran in the opposite direction.
Soon, he was lost. As if it wasn't challenging enough, the maze was very good at its job. He couldn't for the life of him orient himself, so he ended up wandering around for what could have been hours, even if the moon indicated that not even a full hour had passed. It certainly felt like more.
Then, Wonwoo heard leaves rustling behind him. He turned around immediately, so fast it almost made him whiplash, to find the woman from before standing before him.
He racked his brain trying to recall her name. At some point, he had to have known it. Yet, he kept coming back empty. He didn't need it, though, to know the kind of person she was. The kind of hunter she was. The awful one, her smile reminded him of that of a cat. Sly, cocky. Dangerous, above all. She was the kid of a hunter who enjoyed the job, she wasn't on it to protect humans. She was on it purely out of personal reasons. For the pleasure of the game, of killing something, someone, and being praised for it.
A shiver climbed up from Wonwoo's back. He suppressed it, taking a few steps back. He tried to avoid engaging in fights as much as he could, and he had a good success rate doing so. Tonight, though, it seemed like he wouldn't be so lucky.
The woman took a step towards him, if it could even be considered one. She was limping, dragging her left leg behind her. A makeshift tourniquet was tied around her thigh. It looked like Chan had gotten her good. Her clothes were stained with mud and blood. A pang of concern ran through Wonwoo, hoping that blood wasn't Chan. It was futile, of course it was Chan's; she had to be one of the best fighters in the history of the guild. But at least, he allowed himself to hope it wasn't a very bad wound. It would be a pity if Chan were fatally wounded. Wonwoo hated unnecessary death.
She didn't waste time with speeches or questions. She was sloppy, clearly tired and sustained a good blood loss. Wonwoo clicked his tongue when she lounged towards him, her movements sluggish. He was able to avoid her easily, his reflexes on point, as he disappeared around the corner.
Wonwoo could hear her behind him. Angry, frustrated, shouting at him to come out, her feet dragging against the ground. He kept running. He knew that if he faced her, he'd kill her easily. And he wasn't in the game to kill.
He took another turn and ended up at a different section of the maze. As it turned out, the gardens weren't designed just to have hunters wander around in a glorified fight to the death. He couldn't hear her behind him anymore, so he took his time walking between the numerous monuments. They had names and dates attached beside the door, which was a clear sign of what they were.
Finally, she caught up. Wonwoo heard her dangerously close, so he took the most obvious and closest escape route, which was the nearest mausoleum. The door was cracked open, so it was easy to sneak in. He pulled it behind him, and it clicked closed just as someone somewhere behind him said:
"Don't close it!"
It was too late. Wonwoo reached down to open it, but his hand closed around nothing. There was no doorknob. He resisted the urge to kick himself. Of course, there was no door handle. Why would a bunch of old, dead people ever need one?
At least there was some light inside. There were a few half-consumed candles scattered across the room, and they had been lit up. By no other than Lee Chan, who was now shooting daggers through his eyes at him. Which, Wonwoo thought, was a reasonable reaction.
"You don't happen to know another exit, right?" He tried, and Chan only groaned. The sound came directly from his chest.
"No, genius," he said, coming closer to examine the door. It was a lost cause.
Wonwoo examined him, and the tang smell of blood reached his nose, coating his tongue with iron. Chan was holding his left arm close to his chest, his right hand tightly gripped around his bicep.
"You are hurt," Wonwoo said, matter-of-factly. Chan stared at him, and somehow he knew he was trying his best not to roll his eyes at him.
"Yes, I am," he replied. "And now I'm going to die in a crypt with you."
"No," Wonwoo said. "I'm taking us out of here."
Chan scoffed, clearly not buying Wonwoo's confident act. He pulled back from the door and walked to a corner, pressing his back to the wall before sliding down, until he was sitting on the dusty floor. He winced, grabbing his arm closer, clearly in pain.
"She got you good," Wonwoo said, getting closer to him but keeping some distance still. Like Chan was a skittish animal, perhaps a feral cat.
Chan didn't look at him, but neither did he roll his eyes or scoff or groan. That counted as a win in Wonwoo's book. "I'll get her back for it."
Wonwoo took another tentative step. "You will keep losing blood, like that," he pointed out. "Let me check it."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't fucking know who you are," Chan spat, like it was obvious. "You could kill me while I let you close."
Wonwoo figured he was rightfully careful about strangers. So, instead of pressing, even if Chan needed immediate attention, he sat down against the opposite wall. Now they were face to face, and Wonwoo couldn't help but notice how nice and soft Chan's hair looked, illuminated by the moonlight coming through the high windows.
"My name is Jeon Wonwoo," he said. That sparked Chan's interest, making him perk up. "I am here because I want to make a significant change in the guild, and for that, I need to get the Bloodstone. Also, to help a friend."
"A friend?" Chan repeated. "Oh, Kwon Soonyoung. I saw you two talking earlier."
Wonwoo chuckled. "No, not Soonyoung. I don't think you know my friend."
He stared at Chan, intently. Like he would be able to let him know just by that. Chan stared back, a little confused, until realization hit. His eyes widened a fraction, and his shoulders went up. Wonwoo shrugged.
"You officially know who I am," he said, and pointed at the wound. "Can I help you now?"
Chan seemed to hesitate but, in the end, he nodded his head. Wonwoo got beside him and helped him peel off his jacket, leaving Chan in just a tank top. The slash was long but not very deep; he didn't need immediate stitches, at least. Wonwoo took off his suit jacket and tore off one of the sleeves to improvise a bandage. He tied it around his arm with a tight knot, making sure it would stop the bleeding. Then Chan pulled his jacket back up with a pursing of his lips.
"Aren't you going to ask about me?" He said.
"I already know who you are," Wonwoo replied, blinking in confusion. He didn't try to put distance between them.
"No, I mean," Chan inhaled sharply. "Why do I want the Bloodstone?"
It took Wonwoo by surprise. Maybe Chan really thought it was the end, and he didn't want to die being unknown. He wanted to share something important with someone, and Wonwoo happened to be there. Or maybe it was to return the courtesy of sharing some valuable, vulnerable information.
"Oh," Wonwoo said. "Enlighten me."
"I left my house a long time ago," he said. "I never wanted to come back, the training was brutal, the expectations even worse. But now that he is gone, it got me wondering if it isn't the only thing that connects me to my family."
There was silence. Not even the rustling of leaves outside was heard. Just their breathing.
"And," Chan added, a wicked smile forming on his lips. "I wanted to piss off my stepmother."
Wonwoo barked a laugh, surprised. That made Chan smile even wider, showing his teeth.
"I'm guessing she'd be really pleased if you die here," he said, standing up and looking up at the windows. "We can't have that."
Chan stood beside him, finally letting go of his arm. It looked like Wonwoo did an alright job on his makeshift bandage.
"We can't reach," he said, looking at the windows as well. "It's too high."
Wonwoo didn't even reply. He just examined the wall, covered by what he could only assume were some sort of stone sarcophagi. That would have to work.
He didn't even have to use too much strength or stamina, since it was an easy climb. The coffins built into the wall served almost as a ladder, and he was hauling himself up the windowsill in no time.
His muscles protested when he did, but it was enough for him to hear Chan's gasp somewhere down there.
Of course, the glass wasn't made into a window; it was bolted to the wall. Wonwoo pointed at his jacket, useless on the dusty floor, and Chan threw it at him with his uninjured arm. Wonwoo grabbed it in the air and wrapped the fabric around his arm before he elbowed the glass with enough force to break it.
They froze, listening attentively in case the noise attracted unwanted company, but it seemed like no one had been close enough. Wonwoo cursed when he saw the fall to the ground before he let himself fall. At least he didn't break a bone or twist anything, even if it was painful.
He went around the mausoleum and opened the door for Chan. He was waiting for him, and pushed out the building before he took a big gulp of air.
"I owe you," he said, staring directly at Wonwoo's eyes, maybe even his soul.
Wonwoo was about to say that he didn't, when an idea sparked into his mind.
"What if we form an alliance?" He said. Chan raised an eyebrow. "Not just for tonight. I mean in the long run."
"I'm listening," Chan said, not entirely convinced but at least willing to hear Wonwoo out.
"You want the stone, I just really want to escape with my friend. Help me do that, and keep the stone."
Chan chewed at the inside of his cheek as he considered Wonwoo before he regarded him with a turn of his chin.
"I thought you wanted the stone too," he said, and Wonwoo smiled. "To make a change and all that."
"Keep it, and when you run the guild, just be willing to listen to me."
Chan considered it a little more. Then, he nodded slowly.
"Deal," a tiny smile, different from the ones before, started to form in the corner of his lips, only to be wiped when the sound of steps came their way. "Someone's coming. Listen, turn this corner, then go two to the right and three to the left, and then straight up until you see a flat wall. That's an outer wall, so that explosive you have, just stick it to it and you'll make your escape. I'll find your friend and send him to you."
Wonwoo didn't even stop to ask how Chan knew he had an explosive, he just rolled with it. It seemed like the kind of thing Chan would know, somehow, when assessing an opponent. He just started running and hoped it all went according to plan.
It didn't, though. He took a wrong turn and ended up in the wrong place. Sick of it, he climbed up the wall until he found the wall Chan meant. He really hated mazes.
The wall had a crack, and when Wonwoo pressed his face against it, he saw the forest on the outside. This far, that land didn't belong to the Bloodstone keepers anymore. It was free. It was for them to escape, to blend in.
The sounds of a fight broke somewhere behind him, not too far. Wonwoo's hands were shaky, so he dropped the explosive a few times until he heard a small click. Then the device started beeping.
"Shit," he said, turning it in his hands. A red light flashed at him, urgent. "Shitshitshit."
He slapped it onto the wall, and ran in the opposite direction, taking cover behind a statue. Just then, two figures came running from around the corner. He recognized Mingyu in the front, and behind him came Chan, looking over his shoulder.
The beeping got worse, louder and faster, and Wonwoo covered his ears with his hands. Mingyu did the same thing and, just as he was about to reach Wonwoo, the wall exploded. The blast sent all three of them to the floor, Wonwoo rolling a few feet over the dirt.
His ears were ringing as he tried to roll to his back, searching for Mingyu and Chan. They weren't very far, Mingyu still covering his ears, probably suffering from similar effects as Wonwoo. Chan recovered faster, a hand flying to Mingyu's back, where the stone was sewn into his clothes, at a place where he couldn't reach on his own.
Once the stone was in his hand, Chan dropped to the floor again. Wonwoo saw the relief in his face.
"Leave," he said. "Now, before they come. That was loud."
Mingyu didn't waste any time. He stood up and grabbed Wonwoo, helping him to his feet. They made it to the gap in the wall together, but he gently shoved Mingyu away.
"Go first," he said, only, and Mingyu looked at him and Chan alternatively before disappearing into the night. Safe.
"What are you doing?" Chan asked, and Wonwoo heard steps approaching.
"You'll keep your promise?" Wonwoo asked. "I need to make sure."
"I will," Chan replied, urgent, getting back on his feet. His grip on the stone was tight, his knuckles white. "Now leave."
Wonwoo wanted to. He was just about to. But he just needed a few extra seconds, just a few, to commit Chan's face to memory. His cheekbones were stained with soot and dirt, his forehead sweaty, his brown hair was still shining under the moonlight, just as his eyes. There was a slight pout of confusion in his eyes. Wonwoo had to leave. He didn't want to ever do that.
That was his fatal mistake. Not leaving.
"Grab him," the widow's voice was cold and jarring. Wonwoo kept his eyes on Chan.
The guards didn't approach him. They were scared. Wonwoo took one step back, trying to get closer to the crack on the wall, as if that would make any difference.
The widow came to Chan's side, and she pried the stone from his hand before pushing him aside. Chan tried to retaliate, but the guards did come for him, grabbing him by both arms. Chan winced when one poked at his wound, and Wonwoo took one step forward.
That got him in the widow's range. She lifted the stone in his direction, and it all went black.
Wonwoo didn't open his eyes at first. He could see warm light, seeping through his eyelids, painting them red. He could feel the cold stone floor under him, scraping at his skin. He felt every single knick in his limbs, and he certainly felt a splitting headache.
He tried moving, first. His legs and arms felt like they weighed a ton, and he had trouble rolling to his side. He tried evening out his breathing.
Then, Wonwoo opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Chan. Sitting at a fair distance from him, his knees brought to his chest, staring at him with those calculating eyes. Then, Wonwoo took in his surroundings. He was back in the basement, but this time he was caged. Solid metal bars surrounded him from every angle. And Chan was inside, with him.
"You lied," Chan said. He didn't shout. He didn't even raise his voice. It still felt like a slap on the face.
"I didn't," Wonwoo replied with a groan, sitting up, trying to will the world to stop spinning. "I just didn't say everything."
"That's still lying," Chan said. Wonwoo couldn't argue with that. "You are a monster."
"I don't really like that word," Wonwoo mumbled, but Chan ignored him.
"When you kill me," he said instead, "make it quick."
"I'm not going to," Wonwoo said, almost offended. His kind had such a bad reputation. "I don't kill people. I lock myself away when I turn, and the full moon's days away from now, so we're safe."
Chan looked at him like he was the stupidest person he had ever seen.
"They have the Bloodstone," he reminded him. Wonwoo's heart sank. "They can force you to turn whenever they want."
That definitely changed things. Locked up as they were, and Chan being unarmed, they didn't have many options. They were as good as dead.
Frantically, Wonwoo crawled towards Chan. He had to be quick, before their captors came back. Chan didn't recoil when Wonwoo approached him, but he did shove him away when he grabbed his arm.
"What are you doing?" He asked, trying to pull his arm away from Wonwoo.
"I need to remember your scent," Wonwoo said, grabbing Chan's arm more forcefully this time, pushing the sleeve of his jacket away to sniff at his wrist.
Chan struggled as Wonwoo got closer, but didn't really push him away. He was smart; he knew they didn't have much time to waste. Wonwoo buried his nose in his hair, and the only sound in his ears was his heart pounding.
"Are you sure this is going to work?"
"It worked before," Wonwoo paused, the tip of his nose tickling Chan's neck. "Once."
Chan looked up at him, eyes wide, when footsteps interrupted them.
The thing with the widow was that she didn't waste many words when there wasn't an audience to see her performance.
"Turn him," she said. It was a simple order. It made Wonwoo's blood turn cold.
Two guards stepped forward, holding the stone. It shone red under the candlelight, and his stomach dropped. He felt it coming, in the way his skin prickled and his limbs started to hurt. In the way the light changed and his eyes felt different.
Then, he wasn't himself anymore. Not really.
The change was horrifying. Chan had never seen anything like it from this up close, and he had been monster hunting for most of his life.
Wonwoo screamed as his face changed shape, his body hitting the ground hard. Chan pressed himself against the bars, the cold metal biting his skin. He saw, almost without blinking, how the skin began morphing, how his fingers and feet grew in size, how his limbs transformed into something that wasn't entirely a human being.
And Chan wasn't scared.
He was confined with a wolf, and he wasn't scared. Concerned about how they were going to escape, sure. But not scared.
The wolf shook his whole body once the transformation was done, like an oversized wet dog. Then he climbed onto the bars, growling when he saw the guards. The sound rumbled through Chan.
One of the guards poked at the wolf, trying to redirect him to Chan. That was a mistake, and he realized it when the wolf grabbed him by the collar and crushed his face against the metal bar.
It all turned into chaos from there. The guards fired their guns, but the wolf was fast. Too fast. Chan dropped to the floor, covering his face, so he didn't even see when he twisted the metal bars until they broke and bent so he could escape.
There were screams and shouts and guns being fired, but above all, there were growls and nails tearing at flesh and whimpers of pain. Chan pointedly decided not to look. He had bigger fish to fry.
He found the widow trying to make a run for it. He couldn't let her.
Chan ran behind her, throwing his body towards her until they both landed on the floor. The background noises were filling his head, but Chan got his fingers on the stone anyway. She tried to push him back, struggling under him, but Chan was stronger.
The stone slipped from his fingers a few times; the grip she had on it was vice-tight. He finally was able to get enough leverage to pull and her fingers recoiled as she wailed. Chan didn't care, he didn't buy her act. He never had.
The stone was his. It finally was his.
Then the widow made a different sound. One that was real, so it tugged at Chan's ears. That was when he noticed everything was silent around them, except for the noise of pure horror that the widow was making.
He turned around to find the wolf, staring at them. The yellow eyes went from Chan to her, like he couldn't quite decide what would be his next move. Chan moved back very slowly, dragging himself on the floor to get away. He tried making himself smaller, less threatening. To will his heart to beat at a normal pace.
The widow didn't do the same. She crawled, calling for help, even though all the guards were dead around them. The wolf's chin was dripping red as his eyes followed her. Chan looked away when the wolf got her.
Still, it was quick. He didn't have time to escape, or to think of another solution. He didn't want to hurt the wolf. Wonwoo had been kind, and he had believed in him. He had wanted to protect Chan. It was his turn to return the favor.
The wolf sniffed in his direction, slowly making his way towards Chan on all fours. He smelled of blood and wet dog, and Chan wrinkled his nose. He tried not to breathe when the wolf got all in his face, his hot breath fanning against his skin.
Then, his cold snout on his neck, on his chest, sniffing his hair and his wrists. Chan fought every single instinct that screamed at him to run, to kill. He just let the wolf tickle his skin before he just… left.
The wolf left, and Chan sat on the ruins of a house that used to be his home, of a bloodline that used to instill respect and fear and now was nothing but a mockery. Of an institution that maybe, just maybe, was founded on the wrong principles. That humans were us and monsters were them. And that we don't mix around with the otherness.
The accomplishment tasted like ashes in Chan's mouth when his legs stopped shaking enough for him to stand up. He dodged the widow's body, focusing on taking one step at a time, when someone came running through the door.
Chan was desensitized enough that he barely moved a muscle when Mingyu was in front of him.
"Where…" Mingyu started saying, but Chan only pointed to his right.
"He went over there," he said, the exhaustion finally setting in his bones. It had been a hell of a night.
"Thanks," Mingyu said before he disappeared again.
Chan walked to an armchair, the stone still clutched in his grip. He let his body fall on the chair, heavily, enough that the legs scraped against the floor. He didn't care. He examined the stone in his hand, instead. He was the new head of the family. There were changes coming.
Wonwoo was probably the most unlucky bastard on the whole continent.
He grabbed his head, as if it would help with the splitting pain. It was like a bad hangover, but a thousand times worse.
The light was painful, but he forced himself to look anyway. At some point, Mingyu had come to his rescue, which was about time considering the number of times Wonwoo had saved him.
The noises of the forest were comforting, but Wonwoo's naked feet were cold. The pros and cons of sleeping under the stars.
Mingyu was sitting a little further away, around the embers of a dying fire. Wonwoo held onto the scraps that were left of his shirt and joined him.
"You owe me lunch," Mingyu said when Wonwoo sat beside him.
Wonwoo didn't even bother to reply.
"Is he dead?"
"You mean Chan?" Mingyu asked, and a teasing smile formed on his lips. "He is fine. He had the stone. He told me where you had run off to."
Wonwoo nodded, not digging into he implications of that.
"Soonyoung?"
"He made it out of the maze alive," Mingyu informed him. "I ran into him on my way to find you. You'll probably need to have a conversation with him."
Wonwoo wanted to groan, but his throat was hurting enough as it was. He needed warm tea to soothe it.
"Do you think—" he cleared his throat, trying for his voice to come out clearer. "Do you think he'll call me?"
Mingyu snorted a laugh that was too similar to a sound a dog would make, and Wonwoo punched him in the shoulder.
"I mean, to make changes in the guild," he said, feeling how his ears turned hot and red.
"Sure," Mingyu replied, with that tone that meant that he didn't buy it. "Maybe he will. He let us live, after all."
Wonwoo hummed, and they both stared at the remnants of the fire for a few more minutes until they were interrupted by Mingyu's stomach grumbling loudly.
"Alright, about that lunch you owed me…"
Wonwoo rolled his eyes and shoved him with his shoulder before he picked up what little they had to make their way back home.
He didn't know if Chan would actually call, but he hoped he would. He had a feeling he would.