link - minsung

11

jisung, who had calmed down the tears while minho had been gone, was assuming he had already no tears left to cry. he was exhausted and it had only been an hour since he'd been abducted. he couldn't bare to think of how long he'd be treated like this.

what he'd still at the time been oblivious to was how he hadn't even seen the beginning of what he'd end up going through.

minho walked into the room with a bowl of mashed potatoes and wide grin. he walked swiftly over to jisungs bedside where there was a small stool for him to sit. "i hope you like potatoes." he said so kindly as he scooped a spoonful of the creamy food. jisung cringed.

"i just wanna—want to go home, i promise if you let me go i won't tell anybody about you! i'll—i will pretend as if it never even hap—" jisungs plea was abruptly put to a stop when a the back of the mans hand was met with his left cheek. he let out a quick shriek of terror in pain. he knew sooner or later he was to be abused in one way or another. in his situation it was quite inevitable to be. he didn't imagine it would be over something so small.

"i'm not letting you go, if you beg to go back to your pathetic lonely life one more time i'll fucking kill you." minho scoffed. "you've already made this harder on me by fucking that coworker of yours. now you have some stupid attachment back at home which is proven to make someone whine more. do you understand just how much that boy ruined my plans?!" he yelled, so close to jisungs face he could feel the spit spray on his face as the man talked to him.

jisung was to scared to speak again.

"exactly, you have no idea. before you had no attachments back at home, nobody would notice you will be missing for a week because you have the next 7 days off work. you would have absolutely nothing to return to. no sexual cravings for a hookup because you were a virgin, no wanting to go home to see your loved ones, no school, no anything. but now all because of that fucking kid that you work with, you have things to look forward to, am i right? poor little depressed boy with adhd and severe anxiety, that was in a different mindset before his little sleepover, wouldn't have minded this as much, right? you had nothing to live for. but now—now, because of yang jeongin, this is going to hurt so much worse then it would have."

jisung knew whoever this man truly was, was sick. extremely. he knew he was trying to trick him into guilt and he couldn't help but fall for these weak evil schemes for he had already underlying guilt of loosing his virginity to someone he'd only talked to on occasion. but didn't everyone feel at least some proportion of guilt after their first time? yeah, most likely. what minho was doing to convince him he should be more guilty was only going to weaken jisung, and it hurt jisung to know he was gullible enough to fall for it.

"now sit and think about what i said while i feel you. i'm not going to do anything to hurt you right now unless you don't behave." minho took a spoonful of mashed potatoes and tried feeding them to jisung but the boy had other plans.

jisung turned his head, he wasn't hungry. in fact, he'd lost his appetite completely for
he could only worry about was how this all would end. not to mention, he didn't want the food this man would make him, for all he knew it could be contaminated with drugs or poison.

as minho watched the boy reject his kind offer, on instinct he grabbed jisungs head from the top, and pulled his head back by his brown hair. with the other hand he grabbed a a handfuls of mashed potatoes and aggressively shoved it all over his face. "fucking starve then!" he huffed in fury. "i was trying to be nice but you clearly want to see me angry, don't you?"

jisung yelled out a cry. "no!" he begged, but it came to no use. minho set the bowl down and clenched his fist, hitting the boy on his poor left cheek with a strong punch. but this didn't satisfy minho the way he thought it would. yeah, he was a sadistic piece of shit that would absolutely loved to beat other "objects" around like they meant nothing, because to him they did mean nothing. but for some reason, jisung to him was not the same. it didn't feel the same to hurt him or hear his cries for help. no. in fact it didn't make him feel good at all, no joy or giddy euphoria took over his body as it usually did. it felt like nothing.

so he did it again...

and again...

and again, until there were no more cries from the pathetic boy who had mashed potatoes smeared over his helpless face. jisung had passed out, minho simply scoffed and thought about how he would simply try again tomorrow.