#// kudos to stef for the awesome line in the chat that got me thinking earlier :D

[nam-daeeun]

midnight thoughts // self-para

where : dae-eun's apartment when : shortly after this plot drop trigger warnings : mentions of death & police

i can't shake these midnight thoughts when i'm alone latching to my brain and never letting go so i'll start making friends with the noise in my head and all these midnight thoughts when I'm alone

His hands trembled as he stared at the screen. He'd paused the news broadcast; his phone sat in silence on the table in front of him, information frozen mid-transit. The string of murders was bad enough: watching his new friends go through complete torture every week or so, not to mention losing someone he'd seen around the town only days prior was all taking a toll by itself. The previous victim being from his hometown hadn't done anything to ease the discomfort, either.

But now it was getting personal, and he was terrified. For someone that had so much experience when it came to writing about this sort of thing, he'd very rarely had any physical practice with going through it himself—and certainly none that hit as disturbingly close to home as this. Any danger he'd ever been in, well, he'd only ever had himself to worry about and blame. This was different.

They were targeting people now, and somehow his cousin had ended up on their list. Possibilities flashed through his head faster than he could think them through; reasons for the callout, affiliations he wouldn't know about, anything to try and figure out what was going on. It was possible that she was next: with her personality, Dae was certain Jieun had made enough enemies that it wouldn't be a surprise if she vanished. But his brain was primarily running in other directions.

What in the world had she gotten herself into? Was this text addressed to her? If so, then who was the subject of the text? Was it someone that had already died? His mind ran through the list of names: Woodrow Hearst, Louis Goodall, Jake, Vivi, Harlow Sotheby. There wasn't a visible connection between the five—and only one was still alive. He swallowed hard, leaning over to let the rest of the news broadcast play.

Naturally, the police department had declined to comment. There was no further information—no explanation of the account, just the mysterious, cryptic post. The broadcast went off shortly after. Dae leaned against the back of his couch, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process the information.

When the group chat started going off an hour or so later, he'd barely moved, laptop now in hand as he combed through Nightrest News archives for content. He glanced at the screen, not really paying attention until a specific message caught his eye.

Benito: I don't think they would have a choice once the press gets a hold of it. Benito: If they haven't already.

The older man was right. It was time to do what he did best: write.