Chapter 1
The rain beat down on the city, turning the streets into rivers of shimmering black. Y/n sat by the large, arched window of her studio, watching the world blur outside.
Inside, the room was a stark contrast to the storm—a sanctuary of warmth and creativity, filled with the scent of oil paints and the soft glow of scattered candles.Her fingers were stained with shades of blue and grey, remnants of the piece she’d been working on all day. It was a commission like any other, yet it felt emptier than usual.
Lately, everything had. The once soothing ritual of painting no longer brought the solace it once did. The brush felt heavy in her hand, and the canvas—a vast, blank space—seemed to mock her with its emptiness.
“Why can’t I feel anything?” she whispered to herself, her voice lost in the rhythmic drumming of the rain.She stood, stretching her stiff muscles, and walked over to the old wooden desk in the corner. Letters and bills were strewn across it in disarray, but one envelope stood out—a stark white against the yellowed parchment of everything else. It had arrived that morning, without a return address, delivered by a courier who had vanished before she could ask any questions.
Y/n picked it up, turning it over in her hands. The paper was smooth, expensive. The seal was a deep, blood-red wax, pressed with an unfamiliar crest—a raven, wings outstretched, clutching a rose in its talons. Intrigued, she carefully broke the seal and unfolded the single sheet of paper inside.The handwriting was elegant, almost archaic in its formality.
"To the artist known as y/n," it began.
"I have followed your work for some time now. There is a soul in your art that speaks to the darkness within, a voice that echoes in the silent spaces of the mind. I require your services for a portrait—a commission unlike any you have taken before. The subject is a man of great mystery, whose image haunts the dreams of many. You will find him both familiar and unknown."
"The payment will be substantial, enough to free you from the constraints of this world. I trust that you will accept this task, for it is one that only you can fulfill."
"Should you choose to accept, meet me at the following address tomorrow at midnight."Beneath the words was an address—a place she recognized as being in the old, forgotten part of the city, where the buildings leaned too close together and the streetlights flickered like dying stars.
Y/n read the letter twice, her pulse quickening with each pass. There was something unsettling about the request, something that pricked at the back of her mind like a warning. And yet, there was also a thrill, a spark of curiosity that she hadn’t felt in months.She set the letter down and walked back to the window. The rain had lightened, falling now in soft whispers against the glass.
Her reflection stared back at her, eyes dark and wide, framed by shadows. In that moment, she felt as if she were standing on the edge of something vast and unknown, a precipice that she could either retreat from or step into.“Who are you?” she murmured, her breath fogging the glass.
The letter had given no name, no hint of the identity behind it. But whoever it was, they knew her. They understood the darkness she carried, the void that had been growing inside her ever since… No, she wouldn’t think about that. Not now.She looked down at her hands, still stained with paint. This was her chance—perhaps her only chance—to break free from the monotony that had become her life.
To feel something, anything, again.With a resolute nod, y/n turned away from the window. She picked up the letter once more, tracing the outline of the raven with her thumb.Tomorrow at midnight. The words echoed in her mind, mingling with the sound of the rain and the steady beat of her heart.
She would go, she had to know.
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Y/n spent the next day in a haze of anticipation and dread. The hours seemed to stretch on forever, each minute ticking by like a countdown to some inevitable fate. She tried to paint, but her thoughts were too scattered, her hands too restless. She found herself glancing at the clock every few minutes, as if time might suddenly jump forward and bring her closer to the moment she both feared and craved.
Finally, as the sky darkened and the city lights began to flicker on, y/n prepared to leave. She dressed in simple, dark clothes—practical, easy to move in. A long coat, black as night, to ward off the chill. She slipped the letter into her pocket, the paper crinkling softly as it nestled against her side.The streets were nearly deserted as she made her way to the address, her footsteps echoing in the quiet night.
The air was thick with the scent of rain and wet earth, and the buildings around her loomed like silent sentinels, watching her with unseen eyes.As she neared her destination, the city seemed to fall away, leaving only shadows and whispers in its wake. The old part of town was a place forgotten by time, where the past lingered in every cracked brick and faded sign.
It was here, in this ghost of a neighborhood, that y/n found the building.It was an old mansion, its stone façade covered in ivy, with windows that seemed to gaze out into nothingness. A single light burned in the uppermost window, casting a pale glow that barely reached the ground.
The door was massive, made of dark wood and bound with iron. It looked as if it hadn’t been opened in years, and yet, as y/n approached, it swung open with a creak, revealing a narrow hallway beyond.Y/n hesitated for only a moment before stepping inside. The door closed behind her with a soft click, sealing her in darkness.
For a moment, all she could hear was the sound of her own breathing, shallow and quick. Then, slowly, her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she saw a figure standing at the end of the hallway.He was tall, his features obscured by the shadows that clung to him like a shroud. But there was something about the way he stood, the way his presence filled the space, that sent a shiver down her spine.“Y/n,” he said, his voice low and smooth, like velvet over steel. “You came.”
“I did,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “Who are you?”The figure stepped forward, and as he did, the light from the distant window caught his face, revealing eyes that gleamed with a strange, captivating intensity.
“My name is Jimin,” he said, his lips curving into a small, enigmatic smile. “And we have much to discuss.”
