Killer Cruise

Chapter 46

One would think a pestilence would eventually leave if you actively ignore it, unfortunately to everyone in the room the crowd outside refuses to follow the generic trend.

Rhythmic knocking and occasional yelling continues on way past what anyone expected, becoming to us what a red rag is to a bull.

Hoseok and Taehyung had pushed chairs and the vanity table in front of the door, slightly muffling the yells of demand from outside.

"My gosh when will they give up," I mutter, leaning into the sofa, at this point I wouldn't even be mad if it swallows me whole.

Currently 5a.m, nearly everyone is awake against their will. I'm seated upright on the small sofa, squished between the two giants; Taehyung and Namjoon, everyone else sitting on chairs or a random spot on the floor of their own, each with matching haggard expressions and the only thing I've heard since I awoke are threats beyond the door and the orchestra of several of our stomachs singing out for food, having been deprived of dinner yesterday.

I think Jimins officially lost it, since he got up, he's had a pillow atop his head, sides pressed down to shield his ears, all held in place with a belt going round his forehead.

"Alright, this is getting out of hand," Namjoons hand slams the table, standing up, biting on his inner cheek as a glare solidifies on his face.

As his gaze briefly skims over us as he looks towards the door, I get a glimpse of the near tangible beams of irritation, radiating from him. Au contraire to Namjoons usual 'clumsy gentle giant' persona this man before me could send someone 6 feet under with a mere stare. Even the others all only quietly look between each other, no one daring to say something as Namjoon makes his way to the door.

Everyone watches as Namjoon shoves furniture out of his way before ripping open the door, only to find the hallway completely abandoned, yet the sounds of protest and knocking of doors continue.

He looks to the floor, as he bends to retrieve something his trousers rip. I could barely make out the Ryan teddy bear print underwear before Taehyungs hands shield my eyes.

Several muffled laughters and coughs masking them follow soon after. At the sound of the door clicking shut Taehyungs palm returns back to his side, revealing a rather flushed Namjoon, one hand atop the rip in his trousers, another holding up a phone, the sound of knocking and some threats we heard from earlier emanating from the device of the devil.

"It's an hour long recording, that has been set to play on repeat," exasperation interlacing each word of his. Even when he speaks Korean to the rest, I don't need to understand the language to hear the overflowing sense of 'done with everyone and everything'.

Namjoon soon excuses himself, back against the wall, a new pair of sweatpants in hand as he slips into the bathroom to change.

Amid the silence of everyone accepting we just got trolled on an astronomical level, one of their stomachs growl again. At this rate, we're more likely to die out from hunger than a psycho in the vents.

Once Namjoon returns, butt covered and all.

"I think I have a plan," I announce, all seven heads swinging my way. They move in synch at the most random times while doing the most quotidian of activities, rather freaky.

-

My idea is well received by both Namjoon and Yoongi, with a few alterations and improvements Namjoon then translates for the rest of them Yoongi offers to go next door and inform the other three about this.

Everyones here, all gathered, trying to tackle the biggest flaw in the plan.

How exactly to inform the killer I'll go to her.