The Last Mission | Markhyuck

10.

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We were picked up from the restaurant by a shaved-headed slim man who had more tattoos on him than food on his body. The drive to pick up the delivery felt rather uncomfortable mentally for me and physically for Maria in the back of the van sitting between two men. I kept my eyes on the road trying to understand where we were off to and how the location might be, considering these people were doing such a huge "business" in the city without any issue.

10 minutes away from the restaurant in Lat Parao, we entered a different local market which was crowded immensely. The traffic by people and vehicles perhaps delayed the journey a little but all that concern flew out of my head when we parked a few meters away on a not-so-busy busy street.

The further the step we took, my gut had more shit to say to me. Whatever we were about to see was going to be hard to take in. Hell, the fact that I was in another country looking for my boy by ordering a kidney still hadn't struck me yet completely.

Closing the door behind me, I glimpsed around the buildings. Some apartment complexes. Other older structures with other purposes.

In situations like these, you expect to travel to an abandoned place hidden somewhere between trees and wilderness that's hard to spot. But the whistle from across the street brought me out to reality as I looked at slim trunks and the four-story building behind him next to a fucking playground.

I looked at Maria who had a similar expression as mine. We followed the group of bodies inside and up a set of stairs to the third floor.

'I've heard about these guys working in the city but it's so disgusting to see everything happening in plain sight,' Maria breathed out between her failed attempts to keep up with me on the steps. I never replied but I couldn't agree with her more.

We stopped in front of a locked metal bar door which showed a long hallway behind it. It seemed it turned to another one at the end but my analysis of the building was cut short by a short Thai woman coming down the steps of the fourth floor. Her shabby get-up with keys in her hand made me realize she had the authority of securing the place before she said anything herself. She spoke something but of course, in Thai.

The men delivered some message about the guests, us, to that which she faced me and questioned, in English this time.

'We don't ask personal questions for why you need anything but we ask people what they need to provide a good service,' she spoke with hardly an accent. Her expressions and body language convinced her as if she was bored with her duty and all this was pretty fucking normal for her.

I don't know why for someone who killed people for a living, like myself, all this was hard to accept. But it was. Maybe because it was someone I knew my heart and body this time.

'What do they need?' I raised a brow. Not understanding the direction of the question.

'What you need like; we have many kids from Thailand, Malaysia, and some foreigners that came to live here. Korean and Japanese. But these two are almost always sold out. Come inside-,' her keys jingled echoing the reality they were about to expose, 'we go to the last room. I'll show you the kids and you can pick what you need,'

Sold out.

Sold out.

Her annoying voice echoed in my head bouncing around the walls. I stood there like a fucking idiot as they walked away without looking back once. I tried convincing myself, as I closed my eyes that I was within the walls of my apartment complex, confined between the four walls, darkness. No light. No sound. Just everything is stuck in the same place. Stuck within the passing of time.