𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍 • SKIN ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐆𝐘𝐔

⌗OO4

A/N: This is a continuation of the previous chapter. Same day, same place, this is merely the afternoon happenings. This is also a few days prior to Beomgyu making an appearance to Soobin.

I also want to remind you that this in no way represents the members, nor do I ship them in real life. This is a work of fiction. I am not romanticizing the shit that happens in corrupt medical facilities either.

+×+

Beomgyu arose from his injury-induced slumber to yet another plain white room. He lay on a frigid hospital bed, tucked in tightly by a thin, almost sheer sheet of material.

He moved, wanting to brush his dark hair away from his eyes, but soon found he couldn't move an inch. Beneath the sheet were 3 black straps attached at his chest, waist, and legs, securing him to the bed.

Beomgyu let out a loud groan, throwing his head back in disbelief. "This again," he said under his breath. There wasn't much for him to do, he had learned the hard way that even if he was able to escape the bonds that held him, there was no way he could get out of the facility. He didn't even know the way around it.

His body ached, pain searing through his veins and up his spine just from moving his head that little bit, even breathing caused him discomfort.

He could feel that his injuries had been attended to. He felt the tight bandages around his chest, ribs, and a cast around his arm. Yet the doctors didn't bother to give him any painkillers like the brutal humans they were.

Beomgyu's brain ran in circles. Questions upon questions really only coming back to one simple fact; he would not ever get out of here alive.

He figured that he had met his end. His inevitable death was upon him, so he should just accept it. This mindset triggered conflicting thoughts. Beomgyu had wanted to live his life from the get go, before being dragged into some white room, with people in white clothes doing nothing but making him suffer.

Of course, Beomgyu didn't want to live his life here. This was a hellhole. He wanted to return home, find his family, make friends with actual humane people, and live his life to the fullest.

He didn't want to imagine that this sickening white room would be the last thing he witnessed.

An uneasy yet determined smile crept onto his face, the idea of escaping taking a firm hold in his mind. Though Beomgyu was not at all confident he could do this, it was always better to fake the confidence and push himself.

Beomgyu hoped that he could just feel fresh air outside, alive.

He knew what he was going to do, now came the how part. He pondered quietly till a woman strolled through the door, clad in a long white coat, her gray hair pulled back into a tight bun.

Beomgyu watched as she connected him to an IV drip, grimacing as the needle pinched his forearm skin. The doctor didn't speak much, only a brief but sarcastic goodbye before she left the room.

Beomgyu didn't bother to retort. Rather, he focused on getting out.

He wriggled in the bonds that bound him. He was at advantage because his injured arm was in a cast across his clothed chest, therefore not tied down properly. He hissed, pain coursing up his arm at his continued attempts to free it.

A few minutes of struggling later, his arm was free. Beomgyu sighed happily. He reached for the needle puncturing his other arm and tore it out, flinching at the sting. Instead of throwing it on the ground, he stabbed it into the mattress beneath.

Any poison supposedly injected into him through the drip would now flow into the mattress.

Beomgyu smiled at his idea, satisfied with his smarts. "Now the other straps," he whispered as he subtly tugged at the straps. He didn't need the security camera in the corner of the room to pick up on his suspicious movements.

Soon, he'd managed to get his other arm out, using it to remove the strap across his chest. Then discreetly reaching down, he undid the one on his waist.

I'll just have to climb out. Beomgyu thought regarding the one at his legs.

Another few minutes passed, and a familiar face entered. "Beomgyu," Choi snickered. "C-Choi nim," Beomgyu pretended to stutter, mentally slapping himself at how embarrassing it felt.

He could feel the crack emerging again, trailing down the right side of his face. "You fucked up Beomgyu, so this is what happens," Choi said bitterly, enjoying the fear plastered on his subject's face.

"No, you fucked up," Beomgyu spoke, "I didn't touch those serums. You're the failure." 

Choi just shrugged, a dry laugh escaping his lips, "Oh, really?" 

Beomgyu groaned and sunk back into the bed, watching cautiously as Choi turned around and filled a syringe with anesthetic.

In a rush of adrenaline, Beomgyu threw the cover off the bed. Gripping the sheet, he pulled his legs from the straps and jumped out. Choi spun around in shock as the dark-haired sprinted towards him. Beomgyu snatched the syringe from his hand and stabbed it into Choi's shoulder.

A putrid fear washed over him, face pale with fruition. "You dickhead," he gasped, handing fighting to rip the needle out. Beomgyu laughed at his suffering. 

"Karma is a bitch, isn't it?" he said cockily, "enjoy it while it lasts."

Choi fell to the ground, unconscious. Beomgyu kicked him with immense pleasure, watching with a grin as blood was drawn.

He made sure to leave a head wound before picking up the syringe that was now only 1/4 full. He emptied the rest onto the floor, before jabbing it into his own leg.

He giggled this time—at the pain, satisfied that all was going as he hoped. He could hear people rushing around in panic, hurriedly he positioned himself on the ground and closed his eyes.

He was supposed to be dead after all.