in the name of thy lord and saviour

part 4: bleach

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Soft chanting wakes y/n up. He feels groggy as his head rolls around loosely on his neck. A small groan escaped his lips, it was a sudden sound that startled him. His vision was foggy as he glanced around the room, the red rights were brighter than he remembered.

Suddenly, he shook himself, noticing that his arms were bound together and pressed tightly to his back. The rope was thick and curled around his wrists, chafing them as he squirmed in his seat. y/n looked up, forcing his vision to clear. He made out several people in white hoods, identical to the one Pastor Jung was wearing. He gasps softly, feeling his legs were tied as well. However, he felt the chair digging deep into his bare skin. The cold plastic was flat on his bare thighs. He looked down to see that he was entirely naked, only having the rope covering up the least private parts of his body. His milky black skin was dry and depraved of moisture. He looks down to see that his whole body was covered in bruises, his lower abdomen pulsing with excruciating pain that shot down to his groin.

"Fuck," He muttered, suddenly aware of every injury he had. None of them were there when he was last conscious. He looks around, in search of Jung. His feelings towards him turned from sweet to dead sur in the span of a few minutes. Wait... hours? Days?

"Welcome holy sacrifice," A loud voice boomed, distorting on the speakers ahead. The hooded members started chanting softly. "K K K" They droned, slowly spiraling around y/n, sat in the middle, tied to a skinny wooden chair. He looks around, a gleam of white light shines from the corner of the room.

"Jesus!" he cries out, only for the light to vanish, instead bringing Pastor Jung to him. A thick black briefcase hung from his hand, swinging slowly with every step he took. Y/n winces as Pastor Jung swiftly grabbed his chin with a sharp movement, dotting a soft kiss on his lips.

"God has found many impurities in you," He starts. "He has called me to clean them from you." His fingers brushed y/n's thigh, tracing through the various opened cuts, pressing into one of them. y/n cried out, gritting his lips and hissing at the sensation.

"I've been trying to remove the sin from you for six hours, the same way I was when you were conscious. You made too much noise so I knocked you out." Pastor Jung looks directly at y/n, his hands rest on either side of the armrest.

The others stopped moving, suddenly bringing themselves closer. "I finally realized that the sin is not only inside you, but it's all over you."

Pastor Jung points to y/n's face, his index finger sinking in against the soft skin on his cheek. Two robed members walk towards them, a metallic tray in their hands with various tools. Y/n's eyes widened, gasping softly. "You... you're not holy," he mumbles, using his feet to shift the chair backwards.

Pastor Jung lifts his hand up, slapping it across his face in a fast motion, leaving a bright red print on his cheek. Y/n's head hangs down, he groans. Jung grips his chin and pulls it up. Y/n immediately feels an urge to spit. He does it, exhaling frantically afterwards. Pastor Jung flinches, the hot spit trails down his cheek slowly. He takes the tip of his fingers and wipes it off, smearing it onto y/n's face.

"I am trying to help you," Jung says calmly, picking up the thin metal scalpel from the tray and a clamp. He walks over to y/n, the scalpel shining under the red light as it slowly lowers towards y/n. Two hooded members walk over and untie his hands, strapping them directly onto the armrest. y/n shakes, the chair legs thumping on the wooden floor. The members grab his shoulders, pressing their weight down on him in hopes that he'll stay still.

Pastor Jung laughs menacingly, the sound reverberating around the room. He presses the scalpel down on y/n's hand, thick red blood peering out as soon as it glides across his skin. The knife cuts through the flesh like butter, a waterfall of crimson leaking onto the floor. Y/n screams, his lungs going raw from the guttural sound he creates. He takes a sharp breath in as he watches Jung peel the skin off, clamping it down. The pink muscle is exposed underneath y/n's dark skin, pulsing and twitching as Jung dabs it off.