Taehyung woke to a coppery tang in the air. 

Apparently he was sitting on a big fluffy bed with cherry checkered sheets. There was a small counter in the opposite corner of the room, with a small microwave oven and a couple of mugs and wineglasses on it. Built in underneath was a mini fridge, like the kinds in hotels that they fill with chocolate and soda and charge you ten bucks per piece. Sunlight streamed in from the window next to his bed, forming patches in a flower shape on the parquet floor. 

Taehyung blinked at his unfamiliar surroundings. 

Where was he?

The last he remembered, he was going home from dance practice. He decided to take the shortcut and walk through that creepy dark alley, but who cares because it was way faster and he was tired and sore. Plus it was already 11.45 pm. 

Then he was walking, and walking, and suddenly he was whacked on the back of his head.

Pain. 

And then darkness. 

Followed by the strange room with the fluffy bed and metallic smell. 

So. He was knocked out. The back of his head started to ache again. 

"Ah hell," Taehyung groaned, forcing his uncooperative body out of the comfy bed. The moment his bare feet touched the floor and the sheets slipped off his body, a curse slipped from his mouth.

Why the hell was it freezing? He had half the mind to hop back into bed. But he was a bit apprehensive of this place; he was only brought here after getting knocked out. The faster he got home, the safer. 

After hopping around the room for a bit, Taehyung found his well-loved Skechers (all the better to bounce around in!) placed neatly by a wardrobe, which after opening, he discovered contained several sets of plain black cotton t-shirts and pants, clean unmentionables and two heavy bathrobes. He immediately grabbed one of them and put it on; at least the thick material provided some insulation. He also picked up one of the wine glasses in case he needed to smash any evil people along the way. 

Now much warmer and weapon in hand, Taehyung sneaked out of the room. He had a feeling he shouldn't be out here, but if he stayed on who knew what they would do to him. Reaching into his right trouser pocket, he was relieved that his phone was still there, a little warm from being slept on. He pulled it out and turned it on, but the digital screen of the iPhone 6 remained dead to the world. Dammit. 

He continued down the empty hallway. There was nothing much except for doors, doors, and more doors. He was about to turn left when another human being popped up from around the corner. The first thing Taehyung noticed was the man's nice pink hair. He was tall, with a rather broad and tanned face, an upturned nose, tiny eyes and poofy lips. He was dressed in the same black cotton apparel that Taehyung had found earlier in the wardrobe, with a pair of bright red Converse highs. 

"Looks like I didn't have to travel that far. Hello newbie," the man said in a deep voice, raising his eyebrows at the sight of the bathrobe and the wineglass in Taehyung's raised arm, poised to attack. 

"Who are you? Why am I here? Where is this place? Do you have food?" Taehyung immediately spat out, acknowledging his rumbling stomach. 

"One at a time, mate. You'll get food soon enough, but I think you need a shower first." 

"One at a time? You hardly answered any of my questions!" 

"It's not my place to tell you so much. Let's go."

"It's not your place to at least tell me your name?!" 

"Fine. Kim Namjoon. Don't forget the hyung. Now let's get moving before the auspicious hour's over."

"Auspicious hour? Why the hell does a shower need to be at an auspicious hour?"

"Shut it and get moving." With that, the man called Namjoon-don't-forget-the-hyung grabbed Taehyung's thin arm (that wasn't holding the wineglass) with a large hand and began dragging him further down the corridor, ignoring the protests and questions by his dongsaeng. 

***

The coppery tang persisted as they moved on. The smell made Taehyung sick. 

"Hyung, do you smell the bad smell? Why does it smell like that? Is it cleaning agent or something? What kind of cleaning agent to you guys use?" Taehyung asked, wrinkling his nose. 

"Why are you so noisy? Since the moment I met you at the corridor till now, your mouth hasn't closed at all. (in a high-pitched, bad attempt at mimicking Taehyung) 'Hyung, where are you taking me?' 'Hyung, why are you wearing these weird black clothes? Do I have to wear them too? Is it the same as the ones I found in the room just now?' Will you ever shut the hell up?!" 

"Humph," Taehyung huffed, his green fringe. "What's wrong with trying to find out about my future?" 

"Well, here's your future. We're here." Namjoon stopped at a large redwood door, a star carved onto it, unlike the others they had passed. He finally let go of Taehyung (who immediately heaved a sigh of relief and started massaging the red spot on his arm) and rapped on the door in a peculiar pattern. 

Knock.

Knock knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

Knock.

The door was opened by a woman dressed in the white version of Namjoon's outfit. She and Namjoon nodded at each other, and Taehyung was handed over to her like a box of chocolates. 

Then the door slammed close. 

***

Taehyung was intimidated by this woman. 

She perpetually had on a stone face and stared through everyone like they were glass. It creeped him out. 

Taehyung was really missing the pink-haired Namjoon-hyung right now. 

"Kim Taehyung. Please remove your bathrobe and stand in the middle of the star." The woman's voice echoed eerily in the empty stone chamber. There was a large star, similar to the one on the door, carved in the centre of the cold stone floor. Reluctantly, he removed his nice warm bathrobe and placed his wineglass down next to it, shivering as a gust of cold air hit him. He waddled like a penguin in his bouncy Skechers and did as he was told, arms wrapped around himself. 

I want to go home. Umma, where are you? Taehyung thought to himself, staring at his surroundings. He was standing right under a spotlight, the only source of light in the large room, so some of the corners were completely dark. There were many tiny holes pierced into the stone walls, but aside from that the walls were a unanimous grey colour. 

"We shall begin. Don't move." The woman in white picked up Taehyung's bathrobe from the floor, and stepped towards the door and into the shadows. He heard a click, and suddenly there were whirring sounds, slowly, gradually getting louder and louder. Fear rose up in his chest, he felt his heart drop to join his stomach. What was happening? Were they going to incinerate him alive? Were the holes going to bust out lasers? Or shoot out streams of fire? Electricity? Oh my god, or would it be German gas? Namjoon mentioned something earlier about a shower... Oh god, oh god, what the hell, were they secretly Nazis? The remainder of the Heil Hitler cult? But why in Korea? There aren't any Jews here! And he definitely wasn't one! As far as his knowledge of family history went, he was 100% Daegu Korean, maybe with exception of that one uncle who moved to Seoul because of his job...

The whirring got even louder, and suddenly fog started trickling out from the holes in the walls. Holy hell, this was it. It really was German gas! Where the hell was the bloody door? Freaked out, Taehyung scanned the room frantically, and somewhere in the shadows he saw some movement. It must be that woman in white leaving the room, which means... Door! Door! Run! 

Taehyung dashed towards the direction of the exit, running through the now thick fog and trying to hold his breath. The fog was cool on his skin, but Taehyung knew that it probably was poisonous and if he didn't get the hell out, he would lying on the floor in minutes. He couldn't see very well through the stupid gas, but at least he had a general idea of the location of his only hope. 

Just as he was getting towards the exit, a tall, familiar figure strode forward. Taehyung caught a glimpse of pink, but then large, powerful hands gripped him, turned him around, and marched him straight back to the centre of the star. 

"What the hell! Let me go, you bloody bastard! I don't want to die!" Taehyung yelled and kicked and struggled and screamed, but the grip, also rather familiar, remained firm. The figure behind him absorbed all the punches, but remained silent. But why would a guy be marching straight into German gas to get Taehyung to stand in the centre of that stupid star to die? A death wish or what? 

"Aish, shut up, Kim Taehyung!" An irritated, oh-so-familiar voice that was scolding him about half an hour ago sounded from behind him. 

"Namjoon-hyung?" The moment the words left his mouth, he felt two tiny, sharp daggers, break skin on the area between his neck and shoulder blade. As they sunk in, a deep ache rose from the affected area, and he felt a warm liquid trickle down his back. 

The spotlight suddenly went out.   

Maybe he shouldn't have taken that shortcut after all.