𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑰𝒔 𝑶𝒖𝒓𝒔 ✓

Chapter 16

HYUNJIN'S body shook and he jolted awake, realizing that he has been staring into nothing for the past three minutes. He glanced around the gigantic room with pleading eyes, noticing the men that were staring hungrily up and down at his naked body.

"Get on the bed, slut!" One, familiar man screamed from somewhere in front of him.

The boy took a weak glance at his own, bare torso, at his long, smooth milky-white legs, then at the bed behind him.

"I... I-I don't—"

Before he could protest, his head jolted back at the sudden tight grip around his soft, long black hair. He let out a small groan, reaching up to grab the mysterious hand weakly in a failing attempt to lighten the grip.

"Get. On. The bed." A voice behind him ordered.

Realizing that there was no point in getting slapped over and over again, he slowly and hesitantly took weak steps towards the bed, and once the men were satisfied that he was lying down and not moving, one man headed towards the table and grabbed something to put it in his firm grip.

"This is going to be fun to watch." One man whispered to the other, while another one unzipped his pants. The traumatizing sound caused the boy to raise his head in fear.

And that was when he noticed what the man had grabbed.

A sharp-pointed object he was familiar with that trapped a strange, white liquid between its walls. As soon as he absorbed the sight of it, he let out a sudden scream and stood up, then hurried away from the bed.

"N-No, please! No, no, no-"

A syringe.

A large, muscular man immediately hurried towards him and grabbed him by his small waist, then heaved him towards the bed once again, knocking the wind out of him.

"No, no, please, no!"

One man grabbed the needle and took slow steps towards the bed, his eyes shimmering with glee at the sight of the boy struggling against his co-worker.

"Yes, just like that. Boss would be happy with us."

The boy continued to shake his head, thrashing and screaming. "What—what is that?! Please, don't hurt me! Please, no-"

In the blink of an eye, the second man was beside him, holding the syringe close to his arm. Despite the boy's repeated pleas and head-shaking, he knew that it wouldn't save him from whatever was coming.

"What are you... Going to do to me?"

The man shook his head, "you'll see."

The other men laughed at his response, causing him to laugh at the words with a wide, toothy grin. The boy's heart ached, helpless pleas unconsciously escaping his mouth.

The syringe was stabbed in his arm a few seconds later. He let out a broken gasp of pain, the uncomfortable, dull pain jolting up his arm.

"No..."

"After the drug kicks in, we'll take turns," he heard someone whisper, "and let's not fight, okay? Everyone will get a taste of this handsome doll."

The boy shook his head in protest, the room spinning before his eyes. His head ached and his muscles uncontrollably relaxed, and his vision blurred.

"No, please."

His pleas fell on deaf ears.

He sank back into his place, the chilly air of the room hitting his naked body, and if his hands hadn't gone limp by that time, he would've used them to provide a little bit of heat to his cold torso.

His head spun as his hair hit the white pillow with a small blob. His body twitched as he was met by someone's heavy weight above his weak body, and he let out a long groan in response.

"I'll go first," a man started with an uncomfortable smirk.

His throat itched at how hard he screamed, his body began trembling and his skin had turned hypersensitive. Uncontrollable tears poured down his face and heartbroken, pained sobs escaped his mouth.

And before he knew it, his vision began fading in and out. His screams turned into loud groans, soon fading into soft moans.

His mouth gaped open in shock and pain, two lines of tears on each sides of his face. He opened his mouth to mutter a word to at least make them sympathize with him or leave him alone.

But to his shock, no words came out of his mouth.

Only a soft, pathetic noise that made them darkly chuckle.

He tried to make an attempt to reach for his now aching throat, but to his horror, his limps refused to cooperate. He allowed a small, pathetic sob to escape his mouth, ignoring the sarcastic remarks that followed.

He needed help, he thought, right now.

His muscles relaxed once again, and despite his aching body, he could feel a hot, familiar golden liquid beginning to stream down his thighs. His stomach tensed and relaxed, and his lower body sent waves of uncontrollable pain, making him helplessly sob and cry out.

"It hurts," he tried to say. "Everything hurts."

No clear words came out.

His vision faded in and out once again. He threw his head back and closed his eyes to try and steady his vision. His eyes rolled back to his head and a groan escaped the back of his throat. A louder, more painful groan.

"J-Jagiya..."

His wife was the only thing he could think of at that heartbreaking moment. Not what his parents would think, not what his haters would think. He only thought about how his wife would think upon seeing him like that.

His heart broke at the thought. And it shattered at the thought of never seeing her again. He could only think about how he would be used as a sex slave for pornographic videos for as long as he lived.

And not only was he terrified of the thought, but he was also terrified of his family, his wife, his friends and his fans thinking that he was okay with what was happening at that moment.

People would never know the pain he was feeling, both physical and mental.

His heart hurt just as much as his body.

"Jagiya..."

His mind soon faded into void, turning blank from every thought and word. He couldn't master thinking about words, let alone speaking. He had lost control over his own body, and he could only blame the people around him and the syringe they stabbed him with.

Help.

His mouth gaped open in shock and the pain he was receiving, air slowly leaving his body. His muscles were forced to relax. Two hot streams of tears poured down his face.

Please.

His vision continued to blur and fade away. The last thing he could see was the white, motionless ceiling above him before he was engulfed by darkness.