chapter 3: a life for a death

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"Get up," the guy demands, grabbing the back of my shirt again and roughing me up to my feet.
I teeter slightly, lightheaded from the repeated jarring I've been subjected to but manage to keep my footing.
"Who did this??" He growls, pointing a finger down at Hyunwoo.
"I-I don't know," I stutter nervously.
"Was it you then? Huh?" He snaps, grabbing a fistful of the front of my shirt and yanking me towards him.
"What?! No!" I exclaim incredulously, tears building up at the thought of committing such a heartless murder.
"Are you sure about that? If you didn't see who did it, then it must've been you, right?" He spares no time and raises an eyebrow as he stares down hard at me.
"N-no! I-i saw him but, but I don't know w-who it was," I stutter, overwhelmed by the yelling and shaking and crying.
The man pauses slightly, still holding me threateningly close to him.
His breath is cold, almost chilling against my cheek and it takes all of me to not fight to pull away.
"You saw him?"
"Yes," I nearly whimper. "I would never kill anyone. It was a guy with a gun."
In the moment, clearing my name was a dominant concern of mine. However in hindsight, admitting that I had witnessed the murder firsthand was the arguably the biggest mistake of my life.
He purses his lips, as if thinking but his gaze never leaves me. "Okay then."
I almost sigh in relief. "Okay...I haven't had a chance to call the police yet but—"
"Oh no, don't worry about that." The man says a little too carelessly and my forehead furrows in confusion. "What?"
"We'll handle this in-house. Han, Johnny, throw her in the van."
"What?!" I shriek as I'm shoved in the direction of two other males, one tall with long brown hair tucked behind his ears and the other significantly shorter with a beanie on.
"Yeonjun."
A tall, fair-haired male with broad shoulders steps forward and maybe I'm just desperate but something in his manner is comforting, despite his intimidating stance.
My assailant, Yeonjun, I realized— was a dark and broody man with pitch black tousled hair and perfect lips that form an almost frustrated pout as he slowly turned to face the tall blonde.
"What are you doing?" The blonde asks quietly. "We can't take her."
At first there's no response. But after a few mere seconds of deliberation, Yeonjun parts his lips to speak.
"Remember your place, Yunho."
And that's it.
That's all it takes.
I'm dragged away against my will as the rest of the group remains standing around the fallen body.
"Please, let me go! I didn't do anything, I don't know anything!" I struggle against the two males but it's of no use.
I catch wild glimpses of the semi-familiar interior of Seoul Food, remembering one time, months ago Angel and I had come to eat a quick lunch here before getting back to work.
I had only been once or twice, they were always so packed it was virtually impossible to get food, let alone a table in the small seating area.
Now, I was fully convinced this was the last time I would ever see the small restaurant.
Or anything for that matter.
Forget Angelita's. I can kiss my dreams of becoming a successful hairdresser goodbye.
Really that was the only plan I had left for the future. I have no family, no significant other—not even a pet.
Even Angel felt like more of just a boss than a friend sometimes.
Well. At least there will be no one left to mourn my passing or carry the burden of my bills and cosmetology school debt.
Those are a few of my last thoughts as I'm dragged out the front door, getting scraped and bruised all the way until I'm thrown like a rag doll into the back of an empty white van.
I clutch my elbow, wincing in pain. "Gahh!"
"Shut up." The tall brunette orders as the shorter, beanie headed one climbs into the back with me. "Hold still."
"No!" I exclaim, wrestling against him as he forces my hands behind my back. "Let me go!"
"Shh!" He shushes me like I'm a child who was told to be quiet and just got scolded for the hundredth time by a disappointed parent.
He cinches what's undeniably a zip tie around my wrists and I cringe as the sharp plastic digs into my skin. "Oww—"
For a second, I swear I almost hear him mutter a 'sorry' but there's too much chaos swimming around in my head to even begin thinking straight.
Let alone hearing straight.
"All tied up?" A third male appears at the trunk door and I recognize him as the guy kneeled besides Hyunwoo's body.
"Yup." Beanie guy nods, finishing off a zip tie around my ankles as well. "All yours, doc."
Doc?
My eyes widen in fear at the prospect of what this 'doc' may have intentions of doing.
"Thanks," the 'doctor' says grimly as he climbs into the bed of the van and crouches next to me. "This won't hurt at all, okay?"
For a second I almost find myself trusting him. Clearly clinging to the first sign of kindness is an issue of mine.
That trust, however, is immediately torn in two when a slightly damp washcloth is forced over my mouth and nose and I try to wriggle myself away from the 'doctor' and his grip on the back of my head.
A scent I can't quite place fills my senses, starting with my nose and then my mouth and then eventually I feel it almost seeping into my brain as my eyes unwillingly roll back in my head.
This is it. I'm going to die.
And honestly? A part of me wishes that Minho—the doctor—had killed me, right then and there.
Death would be more peaceful than the life I've been cursed to live.

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