FORELSKET ( ✔)

5- Choices in the Dark

The muffled sounds of punches landing and Jungkook's pained groans filled the dim, oppressive space of the prison cell. Jungkook was suspended upside down, his wrists and ankles bound tightly with coarse rope. The pain was excruciating as the ropes dug into his flesh, and the relentless blows from the two officers continued without mercy. Each strike of the baton sent waves of agony through his body, but Jungkook's mind seemed to drift far from the brutal reality he was enduring.

In the midst of the physical torment, Jungkook's mind wandered to a distant, more innocent past. He recalled the image of his mother, her face alight with joy as she laughed at the antics of her young son. Little Jungkook was a blur of energy, darting around in playful excitement while his mother tried to capture the moment with a camera. The memory was a fleeting, bittersweet escape from the present agony, a reminder of a time when life had been filled with love and laughter.

But the intrusion of another voice pulled him abruptly from his reverie. It was a deep, resonant voice, edged with amusement. Though Jungkook could only see the figure's back, the voice was unmistakable and oddly comforting amidst the chaos.

"Shall I tell you a joke?" the voice asked, its tone light and teasing. "We shouldn't fart in an Apple Store, you know why? Because it doesn't have windows." The person's laughter followed, a deep and rumbling sound that seemed to echo through the darkened room.

The joke, absurd and out of place, cut through Jungkook's disorientation. It was a surreal contrast to his suffering, providing a strange and unexpected moment of levity. Even in the midst of his pain, the incongruity of the situation sparked a flicker of recognition, though Jungkook's confusion and pain clouded his thoughts.

As the beatings continued, the laughter from the mysterious figure seemed to fade into the background, but the bizarre intrusion lingered in Jungkook's mind, a peculiar juxtaposition against the harsh reality of his current plight.

The prison's grim atmosphere was momentarily interrupted by the arrival of a new figure. Taehyung stepped into the dimly lit space with a wide, almost too-cheerful smile on his face. His presence seemed oddly out of place amidst the harsh surroundings. He approached one of the officers, his demeanor casual and unfazed by the scene before him.

"Excuse me, mister. Why are you here?" one of the officers asked, turning his attention from Jungkook to Taehyung, clearly puzzled by the unexpected visitor.

"Hey, officer," Taehyung began, his tone light and friendly. "It's Taehyung. I came here to retrieve my phone, which I lost about a week ago. Your colleagues called me, saying they'd found it. I thought I'd stop by to thank them—and maybe share a joke with you all. Would you like to hear one?" Taehyung's smile remained broad as he spoke, seemingly unaffected by the grimness of the situation.

The officer's expression soured further as he processed Taehyung's words. "If your work is done, then you should leave. Stop disturbing the man on duty," he said brusquely, turning his back to head back towards the prison cell.

Taehyung's smile faltered slightly at the officer's curt response, but he quickly composed himself, his lips curling into a small, pouting frown. He watched as the officer moved away, his gaze falling on Jungkook, who was suspended and bound, his body bruised and battered. The sight of Jungkook in such a vulnerable state made Taehyung's expression shift to one of concern, though his eyes remained cold and detached, as if observing a distant scene.

Taehyung's eyes lingered on Jungkook, taking in the sight of the man who had been subjected to so much pain. Despite the casual nature of his visit and the smile that he wore, there was a hint of something deeper in his gaze—a complex mix of emotions that seemed to dance just below the surface.

The cold, sterile environment of the prison cell was filled with the harsh sounds of shifting footsteps and murmurs of authority. The officers had roughly forced Jungkook into a sitting position on the cold concrete floor, his hands still tightly bound behind his back. The atmosphere was tense, thick with the gravity of the situation and the palpable discomfort of Jungkook, who was visibly battered from the relentless beatings.

A new officer entered the cell, his presence commanding immediate attention. He settled in front of Jungkook, his demeanor cold and unwavering. With a firm grip, he grabbed Jungkook's jaw, forcing him to look up. Jungkook winced as his bruised face was exposed to the harsh light, blood trickling from a fresh wound.

A grim chuckle escaped Jungkook's lips, his voice gravelly and strained. "Nice to meet you again, Kim Mingyu," he said, each word punctuated by the pain of his injuries.

Mingyu's expression remained stoic, though his eyes were sharp with a mix of anger and resolve. "Because of your boss, Min, I've already lost three of my most intelligent and hardworking officers. They were just doing their job," Mingyu said, his voice laced with a bitter edge. He pushed Jungkook's head down, causing him to fall face-first onto the floor, a gesture that emphasized the severity of his disapproval.

"But I'll give you one chance," Mingyu continued, his tone shifting to a more measured, yet still intense, manner. "I'll have Cyril clear your name, say that it wasn't you who shot Ken. But in return, you need to take me to your boss. It's a decision you'll have to make."

Mingyu's gaze remained fixed on Jungkook, who was struggling to maintain his composure, trying to sit upright despite his bound hands and the pain coursing through his body. The offer was clear, a precarious chance to redeem himself but at a cost that would compromise his own loyalty and potentially endanger those he cared about. 

Mingyu's gaze remained cold and unyielding as he looked down at Jungkook, whose face was battered and bruised from the relentless beatings. The atmosphere in the cell was charged with animosity, the air heavy with the tension of unspoken threats.

"Did he refuse to testify about me? Is that why you're here, barking like a dog in front of me?" Jungkook spat out, his voice hoarse but defiant. The words barely left his lips when a cop, standing beside him, landed a sharp punch to his face, the force causing Jungkook's head to snap sideways.

The cop's aggression only seemed to fuel Mingyu's resolve. His eyes narrowed as he took a step closer, his voice dripping with a grim promise. "I swear, I'm going to get revenge for my men. But beyond that, I'm going to make your life a living hell in prison. I promise you, I'll make you fear death itself."

Jungkook's lips curled into a bitter smile, his gaze unwavering as he met Mingyu's eyes. "Do you think someone who faces death daily would ever fear it?" he asked, his voice tinged with defiance even as another punch landed on his already bruised face. The pain was excruciating, but his spirit remained unbroken.

Outside the cell, Taehyung stood quietly, his heart heavy with the sounds of the struggle and the pain emanating from inside. The anguish in Jungkook's groans pierced through him, and he felt a deep, aching sense of helplessness. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and reached for his diary and pen.

Sitting down on a nearby bench, Taehyung opened to a blank page and began writing in his neat, careful script:

'To save someone's life.'

He paused for a moment, glancing one last time through the small, barred window of the cell. The sight of Jungkook's suffering filled him with a profound sadness, but also a burning determination. With a final, wistful look, Taehyung closed the diary and stood up, heading towards the exit. The words he had written were more than just a note—they were a promise, a commitment to do everything in his power to bring light to the darkness that now engulfed them both.