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♡
The first of the sedated men to awaken was the eldest. Dazed and bruised, his charcoal eyes scanned the room he was in. It was dark, nothing but a single lightbulb hanging above the row of chairs in the centre of the room and Seokjin's nose was disgraced by a mawkish smell of what had to be urine.
To his left, Seokjin could see the shadowy outline of Taehyung, Jimin, and Minjun, while the other side of him sat Namjoon, Jungkook, and Hoseok. His wrists and ankles were bound to a wobbly frame-built chair much like everyone else's.
"Pleasant sleep?"
Seokjin snapped his head in the direction of the raspy voice that penetrated his disorder, "who's there?"
The voice no longer spoke, but the sniper could hear the man's breathing and the scuttling of his shoes against the dust-coated floor. His shouting must have alarmed some of the other gangsters awake, seeing as a few distressed whines and grunts sounded beside him.
"What's going on?" He looked around at Taehyung, feeling the panic radiate off of him. While his features were clouded by the gloom of the room, Seokjin could make out the glistening, wide eyes that stared at him in stress.
"It's okay," Seokjin mumbled, "just relax."
A surge of light immersed the room as a door in front of the boys swung open, crashing against the wall with a powerful crunching sound. Seokjin blinked posthaste, adjusting his eyes to the burning sensation.
"This is all seven of them?" A man tutted as he marched into the basement-like room with a few guys pursuing him. He took a turn staring down each of the Bangtan boys until he halted at their captive with a judging leer on his expression.
"You want to tell me this is a brother of BTS," he didn't hesitate to laugh in the face of the whimpering youngster, "what kind of gangster pisses himself?"
Minjun cried out, wincing away from the man as far as he could while being locked down. His eyes found Seokjin's; large, pleading, and full of terror-stricken tears.
"Come on, kid, who are you? What do you do for the gang?"
Minjun couldn't bring himself to look into the eyes of the man, finding himself gawking into space while trying to neglect the piercing stare from above. He knew that these men had an idea of numbers, knowing that there were seven members of BTS.
He had one option, pretend to be the man he despises the most; Min Yoongi.
"Ars-uh, arsonist," he whispered.
The intimidating man backed away, humming and eyeing up the teenager with amusement, "who is your leader?"
Minjun looked up at his own trusted men, eyes dancing down the line until he found Namjoon. The leader's face was austere, sweaty yet overflowing with confidence. He gave the young boy a curt nod and Minjun turned back to the rival.
He opened his mouth to offer the villain the name of the leader, but Namjoon beat him to it when he shouted out for the man.
"I'm right here."
A pant of relief fell from Minjun's tear-smothered lips as he was left alone.
Jimin, who sat between him and Taehyung, was watching the boy's ghostly face as he calmed down. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pacify the teenager himself, but could only offer a supportive smile once Minjun raised his head again.
"My name is Bang Chan," the kidnapper stated, standing in front of Namjoon yet speaking to the entire group, "and you tried to take two of my men."
When Namjoon and the remainder of his gang stayed silent at the accusation, Bang Chan rolled his eyes. He pulled a handgun from a holster in the harness he wore, pointing it at no other than Namjoon.
"Such a shame that you're so predictable," he mocked, stroking the barrel against Namjoon's clammy cheek, index finger clutching the trigger guard.
"It's not our fault that you're power-hungry bitches who can't work justly."
Bang Chan's shadowed eyes shot away from the hostile gang leader, finding himself staring down Kim Taehyung, the gorgeous man with a disgusted scowl on his face. The sinful man approached Taehyung, cracking his knuckles and breathing laboriously.
"I know you," Bang Chan smiled immorally, "you know, you did a good job on my Hyunjin. Still hasn't woken up, and that belt of yours almost broke his wrist."
Taehyung accumulated a mass of spit on his tongue, not breaking eye contact with Bang Chan as he propelled it out onto his face. The man flinched back and snarled, wasting no time in reaching over and using Jimin's t-shirt to clean the saliva off of his eye.
"I see your mother taught you no manners," he laughed and leant in close, "I heard how you lured my men to you, how would she feel to know that she raised a little slut?" Taehyung gulped but held his spine-chilling gaze.
"Open wide, whore."
Bang Chan forced the barrel of his rusted handgun through Taehyung's pursed lips, achingly clattering against his teeth until it pushed through and sat on his tongue. Displeased by the emotionless look on the gambler's face, Bang Chan intensified the intrusion until helpless gags were convulsed out of Taehyung's throat.
He tried to stay calm, feeling saliva dribble out from the sides of his mouth, but Taehyung pulled against the restraints on his wrists as his airway was obstructed with a mass of metal.
It was fairly evident to the entire room that he was losing oxygen, the way that he could only draw in shallow, rapid breaths through his nose. A buildup of sweat sprinkled down his face, spluttered coughs finding no exit from his mouth.
"What? You can't take it?"
The gun was yanked from Taehyung's mouth, smothered in spit and mucus. The young gangster reacquired the rosy colour in his face as he regained the much-needed oxygen in his body, thankful that he hadn't passed out.
"Now," Bang Chan wiped a finger over Taehyung's messy chin, "you want to tell me who knocked my Changbin out?"
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