Fears

Screams

J-Hope's POV:

I wanted to go home.

Somebody handed me a napkin from earlier and I tried to wipe away every trace of vomit, even rubbing my tongue clean.

The rear-view mirror was like a magnet for my eyes, irresistible. So I found myself looking once again upon the...thing that was following us.

Yoongi Hyung was cussing a lot, and the maknae line was screaming. I would have been too, but my throat was already raw from throwing up.

Jin was petrified, and Namjoon's face was white.

But it was looking at manager-nim's GPS that told me how bad it really was.

There was nothing but empty road for miles. And the way that thing was running, it would eat us alive by the time anything came onto our route.

I could barely move, because if I did I knew I'd puke again. Or fall out of my seat. Or something. Basically, if I moved, the world would end.

I clutched my seat and looked at Namjoon, begging him with my eyes to say something, do something.

All he could do was stare back.

The maknaes were still screaming, Jungkook and Jimin were actually crying.

My eyes slid back to the mirror, and I screamed despite my throat practically bleeding from soreness...

It had gained, and it looked like it could grab the van at any moment.

Wait, what had Namjoon said earlier about rear-view mirrors? What was that little phrase at the bottom? Something about the thing in the mirror and a different distan-

"Objects in mirror are closer than they appear"

I screamed again.

"Get me away from the window!!!" My face was wet, was I crying? Was my life going to end tonight, in the middle of nowhere? What about my brothers, three of whom were making me go deaf? Maybe they could get away at least... Maybe...

The van jumped, and then I thought I heard an explosion. I dared to look in the mirror again, and I saw a flat back tire...

Right before the thing's face filled the mirror.

I screamed again, and I knew that even if we survived I would not be rapping for a while...

"The rear tire on my side is flat!" Manager-nim screamed to be heard over everyone else.

But that meant we didn't have either back tire!

Why could I not stop screaming?

I was about to take a breath when a lean, grey hand with filthy claws slapped against my window.

Instead of breathing, I hit the release on my seat belt and writhed into the row behind me.

My terrified panting was so hard I don't think my lungs had any opportunity to absorb the oxygen I inhaled as I lay awkwardly on several quivering laps.

The screams of the maknaes matched the pitch of the thing's claws against the side of the van as they screeched down the side, and Yoongi went silent, no longer cussing. His face was a sick shade of gray that I hadn't known existed.

When Yoongi hyung was terrified, it was really bad.

The screeching stopped at the same time the maknaes stopped for breath, so for a moment, there was an unearthly stillness, the flat tires thumping out an uneven rhythm.