(Some aspects of this chapter will have violence and may be difficult for more sensitive readers.)
Days earlier, Young-Soo had come from out of his unconscious state next to the pillar he had been left leaning against and slowly staggered out of the parking garage, following a car that had exited, as his escape. In his dazed state, he returned to the house where the organization he was part of was stationed. The man had not realized his disgrace, believing his attempt would at least be applauded at best, and forgiven at worst, as he knew he had caused the inhuman woman a serious injury.
The organization of 'The Red Hand' had somehow known what he had been up to, but only after the fact, and before he was able to explain what he considered a victory, he had been apprehended and left in the room he now found himself in. The channels of discovery that led to this new development in Young-Soo's life were not clear to him, but he was certain that the room he was in was closed off, without light and without comfort. He assumed it was a punishment and that he would be released once it was considered sufficient, but he had been left here, both blind folded, gagged and held in place against the plastic chair he had been tied to, that kept his body almost completely still no matter how much he fought for what he thought might be over a day.
He had been in this position long enough to have soiled himself, becoming both hungry and thirsty and he decided he could repent, if the gag was removed, and hopefully, all would be well again. He might need to work his way up slowly from his degradation, but he could do it, he decided. He just needed to be given a chance.
Within the time he had woken from his prone position against the pillar to now, the lack of food or water had left his tongue dry in his mouth, the gag making it worse, and his thoughts had grown vaguely delirious. 'Certainly, the organization would not leave him in this position to die', he mused in a fleeting thought, as he repressed the anxiety he felt bubbling in his stomach.
A sudden, faint sound alerted him to a noise just outside the door, and he heard the sudden turn of the key in the lock. Young-Soo attempted to swallow past the dryness in his throat but could not. His tongue fought uselessly against the cloth in his mouth, but the lack of water only served to make his tongue feel almost swollen, rendering it difficult to maneuver past the gag. With a faint cry, he tried to speak past it, as he moved against his bonds, pointlessly. His effort gained him nothing but silence and he grew still, attempting to listen to any sound he could hear. The faint swish of cloth, sounded into the quiet as whomever was in the room with him was organizing items somewhere near him, perhaps to his right, '... folding a piece of cloth, maybe?' He asked himself. He attempted to speak again, but was cut off, as the hoarse voice of a woman broke into his attempt to assert himself.
The woman sounded old as she spoke, her accent faint, but present in her voice, "I am told," She began, "... that your name is Young-Soo." She announced, her voice devoid of emotion, "And that you have been with us for about a year, or so." She paused for many moments before speaking again. He strained, attempting to hear anything that would tell him where she was in the room. "In fact, I don't think they actually care how long you've been with us. I'm sure there is a record somewhere of your induction."
Young-Soo felt the woman's body heat as she moved closer. Through slow movement, that he strained to hear, catching very little sound, he felt her lift her hands to the blindfold, slowly moving it from his eyes and over his ears down around his neck. As she did so, she was slowly revealed to him, as she peered steadily into his eyes. He gazed at the woman, whose face was heavily lined, with dark skin, and equally dark eyes, framed by strangely gray eye lashes and brows, giving her almost a ghostly appearance. Her hair was equally gray and cut close to her scalp. She looked like someone of mixed race, with eyes that were almost slanted, as if she had an Asian heritage, but a bit more rounded, giving the impression of large eyes. Her skin was a shade darker than his own, with a tawny hue and her stature was small, with a small frame and equally small facial features. She looked delicate, but something about her eyes told him she was stone, covered in skin. She must have been striking and beautiful in her youth, but now her eyes, as she gazed into his eyes, were flat and her youth had long faded.
The woman turned towards a tray on a table near him, that stood high enough that he could not see what was on it. With her back partially to him, she donned surgical gloves, and spoke again, arranging the contents on top of the table, "What matters, either way, is that you, Young-Soo, acted outside of your task. You acted alone and you destroyed months of planning. Because of your actions, we could have been exposed." She explained in an expressionless tone, "You do realize, don't you, that we cannot have such a liability in our ranks."
With her words, Young-soo's eyes grew large and his eyes burned. He began to fight against his bonds again, as the woman turned in his direction, a needle in her hand. She released the air from the syringe, watching as the clear liquid welled up from the end of the needle and spilled over the side. She appeared to almost be mesmerized by the liquid and slowly brought her eyes to his. She stared at him for several moments, holding the syringe in her hand, as if contemplating his existence. For a moment he began to hope that this was simply part of the punishment, a mind game to keep him in check. If he had spared a thought for the intricacies of such torture, he would have believed it was effective, for he knew he would never make the same mistake again.
The woman seemed to snap out of her reverie and moved towards him, lifting the needle and reaching for him, as if to fondle his hair, which she delicately pushed away from his neck and ear. For a moment he was confused, as her movements were almost tender and he stopped struggling, when with a subtle and gentle movement, she folded his ear away from his neck and pierced his skin with the needle into the crease behind his ear, plunging the liquid below its surface. She released his ear, which flipped back into its previous position, and smoothed it down in a caress, as if petting him. As Young-Soo began to lose consciousness, she spoke, "Don't worry, though, it will soon be over. You have nothing to worry about." She said, as smoothed her hand over his hair again in a maternal fashion.
The straight jacket wrapped around his body would not show he had been bound and by the time he would be disposed of into the ocean somewhere off of the coast of Japan, none would be the wiser, as the drug would have only trace amounts left, burning through his system, and be difficult to find in an autopsy. He would leave no mark on the world, as he had no family and any evidence that was possible to connect him to 'The Red Hand' would be erased. He would no longer be a problem. Taking the gloves off, the woman replaced the syringe on the table and left the room, leaving his unconscious form to the tender care of the guard that stood just outside his room.
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