Escape From Breylin || •JJK• ✔️

Park Jimin

'Tap... tap...'

She groaned as she felt the tap of a cool liquid dancing across the top of her head. Her eyes fluttered while her hands struggled against what was holding her down. By the time feeling returned to her body, she realized her hands and feet were tied. Soon enough, she snapped to attention, yelping when she saw the concrete walls of a basement surrounding her.

It was dark, no light in the room except for a single candle in the middle of the vast space. Despite that, she sensed the presence in the room. She could smell the putrid blood attached to his body. Then, she saw the frame of a man mere centimeters shorter than Jungkook standing in the corner of the room. He was cloaked by a shadow, the barren space allowing him to blend in.

Nails scratched against the concrete walls, Y/n wincing from the sound as the figure pitter-pattered closer. She struggled with the ropes tying her to the wooden chair, the dusty object creaking under her weight. Her tears burned against her eyes, but they never fell. They didn't have the chance to.

The candle flickered as the man came into her field of view. The same man from the museum. His skin was smooth, his lips plump, and his locks draping down his face. Silver highlights shimmered in the little light around them. His hands were wrapped behind his back, and he whistled. Just like that, parts of his arms disappeared, shifting into bats that flew around the room.

Y/n gasped despite herself, the bats lighting more candles and setting them around the blank basement floor. There were no decorations, no windows, no useless art. Just the chair, the water dripping down from the pipes above her, and the door the man was hiding with his frame. Thanks to the added light, she could see his attire. Chelsea boots with dark dress pants, a belt hugging his slim waist. His button-down white shirt was tucked underneath, and she swore she could see ink on his ribs through the fabric, but she couldn't tell due to the lighting.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked, her voice scratching against her throat.

The bats reattached to him, and his arms came back. He rubbed his tiny wrist and adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. "My name is Park Jimin. Perhaps Jungkook spoke of me?"

"Monster," she whispered in a hiss. "You're killing Jungkook's people for your own gain. You're nothing more than a terrorist."

"I'm sorry you feel that way." He came a bit closer, using his index finger to tilt her chin up. Their eyes locked, his scarlet ones burning into hers. "I've been wanting to talk to you for ages."

"Fuck you."

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I have to deny. You're really not my type."

"Why are you playing this game with me?" she asked, hating how her breaths were coming out in pants.

"Oh, you poor soul," he mumbled, rubbing her chin with his thumb. "You really don't know, do you?" At her head tilt, he backed off, pressing his back against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. "I kidnapped you for a reason. Jungkook doesn't love you like you think he does. He's only using you to get your blood."

"That's not true. If he didn't love me, he wouldn't go out of his way to do all he does for me."

"People are willing to go to war to get what they want," Jimin said, brushing all her comments to the side. "Jungkook has two sins, my dear. Greed and gluttony. I like to think that bastard has all seven of the deadly sins, but Taehyung tells me to be nice."

"If you have a point, I'd love to hear it."

"Patience," he said, dragging out each syllable of the word. "You might want to sit down for this." She shifted in her chair, giving him a glare thanks to his poor attempt at humor. He chuckled. "Jungkook is an original, darling. He's one of the original seven, and he has special abilities no one could imagine. He's a walking cloak. No footsteps, no scent: he's invisible to us all. In one hour, he could waltz into my compound and destroy everything I've built because he's that damn good. So, tell me..."