Foribus Mentis Saga 01
Foribus Mentis Saga 01
Hiram and Eduardo.
In the outskirts of Juarez, children like Hiram and Eduardo can be dazzled by and wish to become cartel operators. Recruited by gangs at the age of 11, boys can turn into “Sicaritos” (child hitmen) by the age of 13. At the height of violence in Juarez in 2010, a year in which the city saw over 3000 murders, between 75 and 80 percent were males under the age of 25.
Just a vessel. Just a vessel. Keep telling yourself that.
I had to do it. It was only a matter of time. They would have turned at any moment. I know it.
I did it under the cover of darkness. They’d be asleep. Mostly. Maybe. ‘Krispy’ always said something about not sleeping much I think. Well, they were asleep. Mostly. It was a fitful rest though. I came just in time. A slithered up to the side of their bed and grabbed their neck, squeezing hard enough to disallow any sound from escaping it. Their eyes were rolled into the back of their head and their mouth resembled that of a fish out of water, gasping for air.
Their hands gripped mine and their legs kicked wildly as I strangled them. It hurt me to do this… They always called me “grampa”. I never saw myself hurting them, ever. But if I didn’t do it, people would die. It’d all be on me. Only I could stop this from happening…
Then their eyes righted themselves. Their red, shocked eyes fixed themselves on to me and one of their hands slapped mine in a wordless attempt to tell me to let them go. I almost relented… then I crushed their trachea. The pain alone is enough to make them pass out. I sighed and finished the job by snapping their neck. It would have been easier to have just done that from the start.
✂ (whoops, my hand slipped :'] )
Vile figured that with Peaches and Papyrus being out and about, he could finally descend into the basement and clean it up. His goopy tail served well as a kind of vacuum. It easily caught any glass that laid on the floor and absorbed it. Things were fairly quiet until he heard something behind him.
Vile was already on alert. He may have killed that demon child for the millionth time, but he could never relax with that thing running around. It’s SAVE and LOAD capabilities were enough to keep him this way. Reality tore open beside him and he turns around, extending an arm out at his target as his mechanical blaster unleashes a wide, burning hot beam from it’s maw. There were no screams, as expected. The child never did. However something was different… He could have sworn he saw something orange with a hint of blue…
When the beam dissipated and reality stitched itself back together, all he could do and look on in horror. It wasn’t the child, it was Citrus. He laid on the floor with several parts of his body blown away, twitching and groaning. With his remaining arm he reaches out and grabs his fallen cigarette, taking a few puffs from it before coughing out a chuckle.
“…G-Guess I…got th’ jump on ya, huh? Ny eh…h eh h e…”
And not a moment after that, he was reduced to a pile of dust. Vile stared at the mound, shaking violently before letting out a scream.
…He’s going to just keep getting these nightmares, is he?
Tears streamed down his face as he stared at him. Why? Why did he keep pushing him away? All Vile wanted was his acceptance. Forgiveness. But his words stung. They came at him in a volley of hatred and disgust.
He couldn’t take any more of it. With a quick extension of his arm, a black shard flew at blurring speeds, planting itself into the skeleton’s head. It easily silenced him, shocked him even. Vile on the other hand was not seething with anger. Why even bother now? He hated him.
The only thing he could come up with in his current state was to kill him. He’d feel better after the skeleton was gone. A flurry of shards struck him multiple times, eventually nailing him to the floor. Vile knew he had to be quick. Healing would set in soon, and this could turn into an endless battle. He approached the red skeleton and settles on the floor next to him, pulling out a very familiar item: an anti-magic collar. He snaps it on to Pippap’s neck and spoke in a shaky tone.
“You couldn’t just let it go. Why bother? Why even let you live?”
Without hesitation he slowly drives his hand into the skeleton’s chest, pulling apart ribs to access his soul. It was beautiful really. It’s glow was almost comforting, but it was not enough to sway Vile from what he felt had to be done. He reaches out, small electrical shocks arcing between his empty palm and the soul. It didn’t take long to attract it out of his chest cavity and it was soon floating in his hand. He tilts his head, admiring it for a moment, then squeezes it. Pippap screams in pain as Vile’s grip tightened. Black goo soon encases the soul, sapping it and intensifying the pain.
Eventually the strong soul gave. It shattered in a spectacular display of green, red, and a splash of goo. His screams went silent, and he quickly dusts after.
Vile woke up with a yelp, hitting his head against the heating lap that hung above him. He silently curses, planting a hand on his forehead. A dream… A terrible dream. He sighs and laid back down, wiping tears from his eyes. He was frustrated with his situation with Pippap… but he’d never do such a thing to him.
✂ ((no regrets--))
He didn’t know what happened. It was all a blur. All he could remember was teleporting to a timeline in a panic, breathing quick, shallow breaths and shaking like a rattlesnake’s tail. He couldn’t be around anyone. Not like this. He was twitchy, fearful.
He only came to welcome Vile. A new face always deserves a hearty hello, right? For whatever reason, Vile did not recognize him as Sans. He didn’t recognize him as anything other than an approaching threat. Before he could even finish welcoming Vile, he releases a hellish screech and throws himself at the small skeleton, tackling him to into the snow and tears away at him with his claws. They sliced through his bones as if they were paper, and the screams only made his onslaught more panicked and vicious.
The begging, the crying, they did nothing to stop him. He was tireless in his attacks. It would finally end when he plunged his claws into the skeleton’s chest, breaking through his rib cage and yanking out his soul. The screams stopped and the blue skeleton could only stare at the horrifying sight of his trembling soul in the hands of the mysterious monster. He tried to mutter something, perhaps something in response to this terrifying sight, but his eye sockets hollowed, and he dusts. Soon after, his soul shatters into pieces.
Vile was still in a blind panic. He soon leaves the mound of dust in clothes, clawing and blasting anything in his path as he screams unintelligible words.
Mass Killers - I Really Don’t Like People
Once the doors opened, Jimin felt everything slow down. The pressure that weighted down on his shoulders wasn’t possible. It was as if someone was putting all their weight on Jimin’s shoulders.
What was this pressure from? It only occurred when he walked in. When Yoongi walked in. But, he doesn’t even look that strong. Fair skin that has been scarred from many things. Skinny legs and arms, no signs of muscles at all. What was it from.
Jimin glanced over his shoulders to look at the others that littered the training arena. Jimin was astonished to see that everyone seemed to shuffle and squirm in their spots. Jeongguk was fidgeting with his shirt, the one with silver hair was biting his bottom lip, and the one with the pink hair had a nervous smile curled on his plump lips.
Where was Taehyung? Was he really serious about the whole killing thing? There was no way; they’re best friends.
When a shot ran throughout the room, everyone charged at Jimin. With wide eyed, Jimin just barely managed to dodge an attack from the pink hair fellow. The knife stuck straight up in the wooden floor.
The bullet skimmed Jimin’s head, mere inches from his hair. Jimin’s breath hitched as he stopped in his tracks, Jimin’s body shaking as his eyes darted around the large room. A loud sigh broke Jimin out of his trance before it was replaced by loud voice.
“Taehyung, what did I tell you? Don’t kill the kid,” Yoongi yelled, irritation laced in his low voice. “Move your position and wait for my signal. That’s an order.”
Jimin heard a low scoff before it was replaced my a shuffling of loud foot steps. When everything went silent, Yoongi was the one to break the silence.
“Resume. Rememebr, do not hold back. I want to see how useful this kid can be.”
Just the words alone knocked the wind out of Jimin. He realized that Jeongguk was standing in front of him, a large, heavy looking boulder in his hands. Jimin gaped at the sight in front of him before he was snapped back into reality by Yoongi’s loud voice.
“Move, Dove. Don’t just sit there and take it. Move!” Yoongi’s voice boomed through the room, jolting Jimin’s limbs to jump out of the way just as Jeongguk brought the boulder down. As the ground shook under his unsteady feet, he felt a blunt handle of a knife hit his chest.
“Since we can’t kill you, we improves. That would have killed you if you were in battle. Stay sharp. Keep your eyes on the game,” the one with pink hair lectured, a motherly aroma present around the male. “We haven’t lost a man from anyone besides Yoongi himself, and that is because they have betrayed us.”
Another gun shot rang throughout the room, this time with the signal. With Yoongi’s arm raised up in the air, his hand balled up from the sudden command, Jimin’s heart stopped. Another shot. Another chance for Jimin to jump out of the way. Round after round, Jimin found himself dancing to dodge the countless bullets.
When Jimin bumped into the man with the silver hair, the hair on the back of Jimin’s neck stood on end. With his hairs standing up straight, Jimin didn’t have much time before he felt strong hands grab his head.
At first, nothing happened. But when a sudden wave of electricity ran through Jimin’s head, all he could do was let out a pained scream. The scream was something you’d hear in a movie; dramatic, but painful. The pain felt like it would last forever, but only lasted for a few seconds before the hands disappeared from his head.
Jimin felt his body fall limp to the floor, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. His senses yelled at him to get up, to fight and win the battle, but he couldn’t. Not even when he heard the sound of feet hitting the ground, heavy foot steps coming his way. It sounded like Taehyung had jumped from the highest point of the arena and landed on his feet, sending waves of vibration through the wooden floors.
“That’s all you got? Anyone of us could handle one of Namjoon’s electric shocks. That was his weakest one too,” Taehyung spat as he stomped his way towards him, a bright light blinding poor Jimin. “And I though you were useful too. How pitiful.”
The light soon turned out to be a bright, burning flame. The flames consumed most of the room, the silver hair male backing up with the pink hair male behind him. Jeongguk had walked up to Taehyung as to stop him, but cowered away from the intense heat.
“Taehyung, calm down.” Yoongi’s voice had no sign of panic, just pure annoyance. “Back down.”
When Taehyung came into arms reach of Jimin, all he could do was close his eyes and wait for death. When nothing came, Jimin allowed his eyes to flutter back open. The room was tinted with a eerie sheet of grey, like a transparent sheet had been thrown over his head.
The muffled yelling brought Jimin’s attention back to Taehyung, pure anger masked on the younger boys face. As he swung at Jimin, his arm stopped mid swing, Taehyung’s arm being blocked by the grey sheet.
“You know you can’t get past my shield, Taehyung. Cool down,” Yoongi hissed, the warning tone very much gone now.
As Jimin looked at the two, he could see how different they were. Taehyung verbally took out his anger, loud curses and many attempted swings showed Jimin that Taehyung was never mad that often.
But Yoongi, he was a whole new definition of angry. The powerful aroma that man gave off could kill a man with just his presence alone. His face looked so much older than he actually was because of his pinched brow, angry seeping though his eyes as he eyed Taehyung down.
Jimin half expected Taehyung to back down, but he was even more surprised when he saw the bright flames consume Yoongi’s still frame, boredom and annoyance masked on the elders face.
Jimin didn’t expect Taehyung to drop to his knees and curl in on himself when he realized what he had down. The flames only grew brighter when Taehyung finally broke down, silver rivers streaming down Taehyung’s cheeks as he cried into his knees.
As Jimin looks for Jeongguk, he was surprised to see everyone in a dome shaped sheet he was in, protecting everyone from the flames. A movement in the flames caught Jimin’s eye, his eyes trained in the figure that had emerged from the flame.
It was Yoongi, and he had a look of pure concern masked on his face as he rushed over to Taehyung, taking the trembling boy in his arms. Jimin was more surprised at the fact that the most wanted man alive was holding one of his men as if he actually cared about them.
“I’m here, Taehyung. Breath. I’m still here.” Yoongi’s words were drown out by the roaring flames; which soon started to dull. Once the flames burnt out, Yoongi moved his hand from one point of the room to the next, the grey sheets soon disappearing with the small gesture.
“Everyone, get some rest. Jin,” Yoongi pointed to the pink hair male before he gestured towards Jimin. “Check on the Dove, then Taehyung. Make sure they have no injuries. Attended to everyone else before you head to your quarters. Understood?” With a small nod from Jin, Yoongi turned to Namjoon.
“Get the Dove a proper room, he is useful. If Taehyung would like to share a room with him, he is allowed. We will get another bed in there for him if he wishes to bunk with the Dove. As for you,” Yoongi finally brought his attention to Jimin. “Learn respect. You’re still alive because you’re useful for my group. You slip up once and I will do the honors of blowing your brains out.”
Jimin swallowed before he nodded his head, his breathing long and shallow at Yoongi’s intense stare.
“Jin, take the Dove to the infirmary, I will bring Taehyung up when he calms down.” Jimin’s eyes flickered to his friends figures his heart breaking at the pitiful sight.
Not once has Jimin seen Taehyung look so small and vulnerable, his eyes glossy with hot tears. He has never seen tear stains on Taehyung’s cheeks. He has never seen such a broken Taehyung before until now.
“Jeongguk will be staying with me. As for the rest of you, go. Eat, shower up, and rest. We move out in the morning,” Yoongi whispered as he rubbed Taehyung’s shoulder, quiet whimpers and sniffles coming from the male in his arms.
“For now, sleep well.”
Jimin felt his body being drug away from the scene, his eyes fixed on Taehyung’s small frame.
“Jiminie-ah, let’s go,” a soft choice called, grabbing Jimin’s attention. Jimin’s eyes soon met with the pink hair male named Jin, his bright smile making all of Jimin’s worries melt away.
“My name is Jin, but you can call me hyung.”
Most feared man in Seoul, South Korea bit off a little more than he could chew. With the police hot on his trail, Min Yoongi could only do one thing: Kill all his men, burn the building down, and relocate. With Min Yoongi “dead”, he is given the chance to slip amongst the shadows of Seoul and build up his once unstoppable army of blood thirsty thieves, criminals, and murders.
Jimin was a sweet, caring, kind young adult when he first met Min Yoongi. It was a simple bump of the shoulders and a string of apologies before the other could open his mouth. A simple “sorry,” was exchanged before they parted ways.
The second time Jimin ran into Yoongi was in a dance studio, Jimin practicing his heart out; while the other watched.
The third time Jimin ran into Yoongi was the day Jimin dreaded. With the most feared mafia leader standing in front of him, things chanced for Jimin. Jimin was now a puppet for a man he couldn’t even side eye without receiving a harsh punishment.
Will Jimin plan an escape plan, or will he find love in a cold, blood thirsty bastard?
So full of despair… You disgust me.
Sai di aver ragione,
sai di essere nel giusto.
Ma quella maledetta voglia…
Quella voglia di ribellarti a chi ti fa del male
ti farebbe cadere in errore.
Allora che si fa? …
… A volte si cade in errore.
A volte c’è bisogno di star bene.