Episode 4

You’d decided beyond a shadow of a doubt that your Geology Lecture was the most boring class on the face of the earth. You’d read so many fanfictions during it while managing to take decent enough notes that they really should have given you double credits for it. You had an -A in the class, and honestly it was one of your best grades. It wasn’t even that the material was boring; it wasn’t. But the professor droned on and on and on and covered every single bullet on his PowerPoint for around five minutes each.

Never had a two hour class felt so long.

So, while you sat there, certainly not entertained enough by the class to do anything better, you scrolled through AO3 until you found something good to read and lazily scrolled through that while sitting there.

Near the end of the lecture, you took a break from your fic long enough to notice the tickle in the back of your throat. It was probably nothing, though, so you packed up your things and walked to your next class.

It was not, however, nothing.

Once you got settled into your Spanish class, the tickle in the back of your throat had evolved into a pain, and it hurt every time you swallow. Your Spanish class was short though, so when things went from mildly uncomfortable to more than a minor nuisance, you were on your way back to your apartment anyway to grab a quick lunch.

Maybe it was the cold, or maybe it was...something worse, but on the way back was when the congestion hit hard and you could barely breathe through your nose. Great. Just great. You were sick with some virus. How was it that you had gotten sick this quickly? This morning you felt fine!

So, you pulled open the door to your apartment and walked inside, stomping the extra snow off of your boots. Up in the cupboard somewhere, you had a thermometer. After some digging around, you managed to find it, and sure enough...you had a fever.

“Fuck!” You groaned and dug around the medicine cabinet for Tylenol, popping a couple before heating up a can of soup for lunch. You walked to your bedroom and set your soup on the nightstand, grabbing your tissues and putting them on the bed. You dragged your trash can closer and then pulled your laptop out of your backpack so you could email your last professor of the day that there was no way you’d be able to make it to class, and that you had caught something.

It was then that you looked up at your BTS shelf, only to find that...none of your dolls were on it. They were all on the dresser below. Strange. You wondered how they had gotten like that, considering you lived alone and you were pretty sure no one else had a key… It wasn’t entirely out of the question that there could have been an earthquake maybe. Or maybe your downstairs neighbor had gotten another new speaker after blowing out the last one…

You weren’t entirely sure what had happened, but you walked over to check it out anyway.

***

“That is a bad idea.” Namjoon shook his head. The maknaes looked at him with disappointment. “We are not having a dance party. End of story.”

“We’re home alone all day. (Y/N) has class until late afternoon, I honestly don’t see why not.” Hoseok reasoned. “I know she has a lunch break, but she always grabs lunch with her friends, there’s literally no reason she’d come home during it.”

He had a good point. Namjoon looked at Yoongi, who only shrugged. “Guys, I thought we were going to try to be more careful after our...last mess-up.”

“And we know our order now. We won’t mess it up again, Namjoon.” Jimin promised, pouting those perfect lips of his. “Pretty please?”

“Fine, but I don’t want any part of it.”

That protest lasted all of about ten minutes until Jin and Hoseok managed to find your speaker, which they hooked up to your CD player for even louder music. It was a good thing the walls were thick in this place.

Namjoon didn’t know how to dance. None of them did. And yet, that didn’t stop them from trying. If you’d left your laptop here, they would have looked up some BTS videos to try their dances, but without it, they had no way to look up videos of any kind. So they made do, bopping along to the songs on Persona before switching it to Answer. Yoongi had found a flashlight and was using it as a makeshift strobe, flashing it on and off once Taehyung turned the lights off.

For the first time in their plastic lives, stuck in your boring bedroom, they actually had fun. It was strange and new, but they decided that they liked it, this new feeling.

That was, until they heard the noise, muffled through the wall.

“Fuck!”

“You guys, she’s home!” Yoongi notified the others, immediately flipping the flashlight off and making a dash for the drawer. “Ditch the speaker, move, move, move!”

“What do you mean she’s home? She’s not--” Jungkook was interrupted by the sound of the microwave beeping through the wall. You were home.

“I was right, wasn’t I? You just couldn’t listen?” Namjoon muttered, helping Hoseok turn the CD player off and unhook your speaker from it.

“Shut up, Namjoon and help me with the--”

You were closer now, your footsteps coming down the hall. There was no time left. The doorknob jiggled, and paralyzed with fear, all seven of them collapsed, doing what dolls do best: playing dead.

***

You walked over to the shelf and sniffled, cursing before turning around to grab a tissue. You wiped your nose and tossed it in the trash before resuming your investigation. What the hell had happened?

Eyes narrowed, you picked up Jin and put him back on the shelf. And then Yoongi and then Hoseok and then Namjoon. You put Jimin back up and then Tae, but before you could get him in place, you sneezed. And so did he.

“What the ****!” You dropped the doll, scurrying back over to your bed as fast as you could, grabbing the little model Louisville Slugger bat you kept beside your bed. It was a keepsake mostly. Mostly. But it was still made of wood, and it still had good balance, so you knew it could get the job done in a pinch.

Your room was deathly silent for a few moments, your heart racing as you stared at the Taehyung doll you’d dropped. Then, much to your horror, Yoongi talked.

“Great, look what you did, Tae. She’s traumatized.”

“I’m SORRY! I didn’t even know toys could sneeze!”

“Shut up!” You warned, holding up the bat while cowering against the wall. “Oh my God, I must be hallucinating…”

“We’re here for not even a month and we break the biggest rule in the book. Good God.” Yoongi shook his head. The others aside from Yoongi and Tae hadn’t moved yet, but you could only assume they could too.

“M-Ma’am, we’re...we’re not going to h-hurt you.” Namjoon tried, his voice tentative. “You can p-put the bat down.”

“P-put the b-bat down my ***! Why would I- Jesus Christ, this is insane! I’m talking to a bunch of dolls! What is wrong with me?!”

“Nothing is wrong with you, (Y/N), we promise.” Hoseok joined the conversation. “It’s complicated, but we can--”

“I’m going crazy.” You sank down the wall, shaking your head. Tears were running down your cheeks and you were shaking. “I’m gonna get locked up forever. Oh my God…”

“Hey!” Namjoon was a little firmer this time. He hopped down from the shelf, causing you to attempt to wriggle further away despite the fact that you were already up against the wall. There was nowhere else to go. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, alright? I wouldn’t let that happen. None of us would.”

You still didn’t budge, still paler than any of them had ever seen you. They were lucky you hadn’t passed out, honestly.

“D-don’t come any closer!” You pulled your blanket around you like that would do anything aside from working as a very weak shield against them. “I’m warning you!” It was silly to try to be threatening against them while you were shaking like a leaf, but you tried anyway.

“I’m your bias, right? Will you listen if I try to explain? I won’t come any closer, I promise. I’ll sit right here on the dresser. Would that be okay?” Yoongi had to give Namjoon credit; he did work well under pressure.

You thought about it for a long moment, studying Namjoon carefully. He didn’t look deceitful. You ran a head count anyway, and yes, all seven of them were still in your line of sight.

“O-okay...Namjoon. Can I call you Namjoon?”

“You can call me whatever you want to, (Y/N).” He reassured you gently. “Namjoon works just fine.”

You took a shaky little breath, grabbing a tissue to wipe your tears and your running nose. “Just please tell me what’s going on…”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***