Broken (MinSung 18+)

Chapter 51

READ!!!!!!TW: Digustingly dark, gruesome torture, ahead. Death. Detailed mentions of abuse. Gory and might make you a little nauseous. If you don't want to read that, please skip to the double arrow, where you will be met with humor and fluffsies 

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Screaming. Unceasing screaming behind a tightly covered mouth was all Jisung could hear. He would have thought that this would disturb him- that he didn't have the mental capacity to do anything like this- but the past year had changed him.

The disgusting people that his group had to deal with, the things that had happened to him- all of it had changed him. And maybe he should have been disgusted with himself, but he wasn't. It was as if he had unlocked a new part of his entire being. The one person that he had killed, prior, did not deserve to live. And the person in front of him now, did deserve excruciating pain before death.

Neither of them deserved peace. They had not earned it. Not in Jisung's mind.

"See, you could have avoided all of this. You could have been an asshole without trying to have your stepson murdered, and without abusing little children. But noooo... you just had to let your anger out on people who couldn't fight back." He explained as he pushed the last burning cigarette of the pack into his stepfather's chest, watching with relief as the man writhed in pain.

He'll never hurt anyone else again.

"We're gonna play a little game, okay?"

Ineul's eyes went wide, albeit still drooping slightly as his chest heaved greatly through the discomforting torment.

"Lift your feet up for me." Jisung smiled as he pushed an empty kiddie-sized-pool directly under Han Ineul's feet.

Ineul's feet- just barely touching the ground with his toes- kicked up, trying to swing at Jisung. He quickly ducked backwards and dodged, looking offended before grabbing a sharpened, pronged tool off of Minho's table.

"It would take me approximately 0.8 seconds to jam this little thing hard enough into your skin for the prong to touch bone. Raise. Your fucking legs." He spat, holding the pronged tool until the pointed tips were almost touching the man's thigh.

Ineul's legs hesitantly raised as he eyed the tool, grunting through the tape in his irritation and dissatisfaction.

"Good! See? You can listen." He situated the large bowl perfectly under the man's feet and reached for the several bottles of fluid next to the wall, beginning to uncap them and pour them into the high-silicon-lined bowl of the pool.

"I was worried that torture wouldn't really be my thing. I've killed someone, sure, but only because he deserved it and he threatened my fucking family. He was also just really rude." Jisung said, pouring the fluid in as Ineul struggled to keep his hold on the chain, and his legs up.

"But see... I thought about it. And if there isn't an afterlife or whatever... then it doesn't make sense if you get to just die. Like... you caused a lot of pain in people's lives. And what have you really suffered? Nothing. It's not like you can be sad that you're dead. If there isn't an afterlife, then you won't even know that you're dead! Now, how is that fair? Tell me pops, how is that justice, you know? Shit. These questions are mean, you're duct-taped after all, so it's not like you can answer." He rambled as he continued to fill it about half-way with the brown bottles.

When he had finished, he backed up, eyeing the pool, before looking at his stepfather.

"Remember when you caused this?" He asked, running his hand over the top of his torso without looking, feeling the rugged, permanently-scarred tissue. "I was 14. I asked if we could wash my shirt- the one shirt I had left that still fit. And you flew into a rage, telling me that I ask for too much. You doused a rag in bleach and dragged it down my skin with a gloved hand- protecting yourself while burning me.