SOFT BUN || markhyuck

36.

Katsu.

The owner of the largest sexual trading business in the upper north.

The man had sold and bought more human lives than food for his own son. In the town, no one dared to lift a finger against the man.

Pathetic.

Disgusting.

No good slob.

That's what he would title them with.

His dry lips wrapped around the cigar, inhaling the death stick as the man enjoyed comfortably the view in front.
The room filled with cries and laughs.
How you may ask?

Cries from the kid tied up on the table.
Laughs from the naked old men around him. Each waiting for turns.

'I would like the next turn,' muttered the man sitting next in Katsu's ear 'my wife might wait for me at home,' his tone of voice low, as he spoke out his mind yet being careful with words to not upset the owner. That's what it meant with all this to be about. Pleasing each other. Taking advantage.

'Then you should hurry back,' Katsu replied, never bothering to spare the man a glance. The change of expressions on the man's face going unnoticed. He sat up straight. 'why not go fuck her instead, does she not please you enough?'

The other cleared his throat, not expecting such a statement. If it were anyone else barking such words about his wife, he would've stripped them naked and fed them to the dogs, but here... having such thoughts even could leave them to their deaths.

'I can cut your dick off if you have problem waiting...' Katsu spoke further, eyeing the small silver knife in his hands.

The bald old man stood up, panicking. He bowed and uttered apologies he did not mean, begging to the man sitting without a bother on the sofa to spare his life. Katsu sighed, getting up. He tied his robe and passed through all the lustful dogs, drooling at the view of meat out the door to his room.

A whip or two isn't as bad, if it's not done on you, yeah?

The empty room underground, the structure of the residence echoed with screams filled with pain and dread. Katsu held his hand over his head, fingers tightened around the pommel. Each whip hitting the skin of the boy tied up, thrown on the ground. His feet injured after countless blows. Face pressed to the rough pavement. Trying to catch a breath.

Katsu stood straight, watching his own son; Lee Haechan whimper like a dog.

He kicks him in the stomach.

Once.

Twice.

Each time the dark room echoes with muffled screams.

Each time it's harder for anything to pass the boy's throat.

Blood. He chokes on it. He mumbles something.

This time, Katsu stops. Squatting down, he grabs a hand full of hair forcing him up, the other grabbing his face. Nails digging into his skin. The man licks his lips. Laughing.

'Now, tell me what you learnt,'

Haechan swallows the hard lump in his throat, 'Never speak... unless given permission,' he inhales a hard breath, continuing. 'Do not fight back when being punished. Never beg unless it's you-'

'Me?' Katsu cuts between.

'...Dad. Never beg unless it's for daddy. Let daddy use me however he pleases. Never leave daddy alone...'

Katsu taps his cheek twice, muttering a good boy. 'Now the truth?'

Tears escape Haechan's eyes. 'No one is looking for me. No one wants to find me.

If I try to leave, I will die.

If I'm punished, it's because I deserved it.

My body is not my own. Nothing belongs to me. Never will.

If I'm good, daddy will be happy.

And... I want him to be happy,'

'Good boy,' Katsu stands up, clapping. The poor boy drops, hissing in return. He takes out his silver blade, cuts open the boy's hands tied at the back. 'Now, since you learnt your lesson, I'll leave you alone for the night,'

Lee Haechan, the poor little soul feels a shiver go through his entire body at the words. It terrifies him, not wanting to be alone. The room has no space for any light to crawl inside. Only the pavement to lie on. The hard icy surface reminds him of the painful night. His stomach rumbles, not having eaten the entire day. 

'No,' he whimpers out. Lips trembling.

He drags his body. Feet injured and bleeding. Katsu does not wait. He doesn't have to.

Closing the cell door behind him, he ties the knot at the end around his neck. Hiding the key under his clothes and walks away.

Lee Haechan grabs the bars between his fingers. He screams and begs. Too many months closed up in these walls. He's running out of tears to cry. Skinny and malnourished.

The boy throws himself back as wild dogs drooling, put their heads between the bars. Trying to get inside. Wanting to tear the remaining flesh apart.

Haechan crawls back, far away in a corner. He covers his ears. Pulling his dirty, matted hair.

He wonders if he'll ever leave this place again.

He wonders if anyone even knows he's here.

The silence at nights is torturous.

What if no one ever comes?

He questions himself, forgetting the reason of being in this place.

Lee Haechan stares at the dogs running away. Eyes red and burdened with heavy bags.

He wonders why all this felt so unfair.