Sae-byeok x fem!reader
L/n Y/n, a broken sixteen-year-old girl, signs up for a slaughter house disguised as children's games to win money to escape her abusive father and to give her younger sister a better life than what was handed to them. There s...
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WARNING(S): MENTIONED DOMESTIC ABUSE, BRIEF SUICIDAL THOUGHTS, LANGUAGE
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The walk back to the main room was heavy. The stench of blood lingered on our clothes, the red painted on our faces as vibrate as the stairs. Right when we entered, I walked back over to lean against a bed frame on the floor and sat down, watching through black spotted vision as everyone frantically bustled around on high alert. I felt my throat clog up, my lungs burning. It seemed to be only half the number of people left. Out of four hundred plus. Approximately two hundred died just moments ago. And I was nearly one of them.
I had never been one to fear death. I thought that it was simply the next adventure, a possible escape from the constant pain from my life. But, now, being so close to it... I wasn't sure what to think. All I knew is that I needed to live for my sister. I had to. She was the only person I had left who needs me.
The air shifted beside me and I snapped my head up. 067's profile greeted my eyes. Her jacket was stained red and caked with grime from the sand. Her hair was a windswept mess and her dark, cold eyes stared straight ahead stoically. I let out a shaky sigh, trying to calm my heart as I slumped forward to rest my head on my knees. A hand came and rested on my back. My body seized up for a moment before I forced myself to relax as I felt no malicious intents. Neither of us said a word.
A loud buzz sounded and the door screeched open. Guards clad in the same red jumpsuits filed out from outside and into the room. The one with the squared painted mask was the one to speak again just like last time. "All of you have made it throat the first game. Congratulations," he said. I felt sick. "I will now announce the results of the first game."
The screen above him showed the number of players rapidly dropping with a lottery music like it was something to be proud of. The number 201 blared down in my eyes. "Out of four hundred fifty six players, two hundred fifty five were eliminated," the masked announced, "and two hundred one players completed the first game."
Gasps and murmurs broke out across the crowd. I pursed my lips, grinding my teeth together.
A woman, 212, burst through the people and stepped forward. "Sir!" 212 cried out, lips wobbling. "I'm so sorry. I swear I'll pay what I owe! I swear, I'll pay it all!" She let out a wail and clasped her hands together, dropping to her knees.
