Crown Made Out Of Thorns || Minsung

Before and Now [0]

WARNING: THIS BOOK CONTAINS VIOLENCE, SLIGHT GORE, DEATH AND OTHER SENSITIVE TOPICS. IF THIS IS NOT SOMETHING THAT YOU ARE COMFORTABLE WITH READING THEN TAKE CARE OF YOUR MENTAL HEALTH AND GO READ SOMETHING MORE CHEERFUL <3 I WILL TRY TO KEEP DESCRIPTIONS AND ALL MENTIONED ABOVE TO THE MINIMUM

IT WON'T BE SEVERE BUT PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION

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The night on that day was razor sharp with how cold it was. Houses and rock-paved streets were covered in blinding white snow. Lights were off long ago in every single house, it was too late for anyone to have their torches lit, it was too dark. Too silent. For better or for worse, such a dreadfully peaceful night has been destroyed by the loud clangs of metal on the ground, dragging in the heavy snow. Bare feet ran on a white wonder, the toes of a boy almost frozen off and pain soon went from being unbearable to just being numb. He would rather get out alive and lose a few toes, if not all, than get caught and most likely be beaten to death in the following years.

As the boy ran, blindly in the darkness with no sense of direction, chains binding his legs dragging and slowing him down. Guards quick on his tail with lanterns looking all around while the boy just tried to find some sort of secluded place. A few times it passed through his head that maybe he should knock on someone's door, but who would let in a shabby, barefoot, scraped, and half-frozen child who just turned out to be a slave ready to be sold off? It is more of a risk than an opportunity. He tried so hard to run, often tripping on the metal around his legs, falling face down, freezing cold from his feet to his head, getting up and trying to run again. Desperate, at some point he even started crying, fearing his outcome but still he tried to fight for his life. Until it was too late. His muscles stopped working and he just got colder and colder, he just had rags on him and it was the middle of the winter. He wouldn't last long either way, might as well just die on the streets freezing, that's better than being sold off, living just to serve while also being treated like a dogshit. He was ready to die and he thought he would as everything in his vision went black. The only thing he felt was the everlasting coldness of laying directly on the snow with little to no clothes. "How unlucky, even in death I will be suffering." He muttered, thinking it would be his last words. In the moment he felt like he would finally get his salvation, maybe death wasn't so bad after all for him. Death now is probably the best option and he faintly smiled, thinking that he escaped his miserable life but everything would crumble down the next morning.

Black dots blurred the boy's vision, distant voices were heard and he couldn't make out any words of what they were saying. 'Am I going to heaven?' is what the boy thought until he finally reclaimed his vision and saw that he sadly stayed in the deepest pits of hell in his life. He was lying on some sheets of hay on the ground. He was covered with a few blankets and everything in his body hurt. His head was pounding as if it would explode or crack open in two at any moment. He still felt cold and his fingers, toes, and knees hurt from the frostbite earlier but thankfully they were still functional, just extremely red and painful. Boy thought of biting them off at some point but he had no strength to sit up let alone to chew on the bones.

"Jisung?" a small voice came from beside him and the boy turned just to see the silhouette of what seemed to be a boy, younger than him with black hair and fox-like eyes. Yang Jeongin is one of the many who were here bound to a slave camp until they were eventually sold off or worked to death in the camp itself. Jisung opened his mouth to say something to the younger but nothing even close to words came out, just a hoarse groan and in that moment it got to his head that his throat was drier than any dessert and heavily inflamed. It was no surprise that he came down with sickness after pondering the streets of Miroh in the temperature below zero, almost butt naked. Needless to say, he would be more surprised if he got out of it alive and healthy, that would be a miracle but Jisung was far from a miracle. He was more like a curse, a disaster.