Task: Protect The Captured (Stray Kids X READER MAFIA FANFIC)

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"Shit!"

Felix's shout pierced the air as he sprinted towards the group, his eyes wide with panic. You hurried after him, quickly joining him around the cluster of people. At the center laid Chan, his expression twisted in agony, a sight that shook you to the core.

"Chris! What happened!? Oh my God..W-What..What do I do..?Shit..shit..shit.." Panic, fear, and confusion gripped Felix as he surveyed the chaotic scene before him just as you did. Multiple scars marred each member, yet nothing fatal as the wounds fortunately avoided major arteries. Most were unconscious, their chests rising and falling in unison, forming a grim tableau. As you assessed the situation, it became apparent that no doors or windows were broken; the intruder had left no forced entry. The walls bore witness to the violence, stained and damaged, possibly from bodies slammed against them or blunt weapons. The unsettling realization settled in: someone had caused this havoc deliberately.

Chan struggled to respond, blood streaming from his nose and busted lips, making it difficult to articulate. To your astonishment, another voice broke through the chaos. "Big Boss... He punished us.." Jeongin wheezed, his words punctuated by labored breaths. Rushing to the unconscious boy, his tear-streaked face wet with blood, you felt a pang of helplessness. "I'm sorry... so sorry... I should have been there..." Felix knelt before his fallen comrades, his eyes brimming with the anguish that soaked the room.

Your heart raced as the overwhelming situation blurred your senses. Uncertainty hung heavy in the air, making it hard to decide whom to attend to, where to stand, or whether escape was an option. Pushing aside thoughts of fleeing, you focused on the immediate task at hand. "F-Felix... Help me get them to the medical room... Please.." You implored, hoping your voice would penetrate Felix's grief-stricken haze. His sobs gradually subsided, but he clung to Hyunjin's unconscious form. Frowning, you turned your attention back to the other members, evaluating who would be the lightest to carry.

You began with Seungmin, his body lying near the sofa and a bit further away from the other members, relatively lighter due to your adrenaline-fueled strength. Swiftly, you carried him to the designated room, gently placing him on the harsh concrete bed. Racing back, you assessed the situation, your eyes falling on Jeongin next. With his arm draped over your shoulders, you guided him to the room, determined to bear the weight even as your energy waned, your hands trembling with anxiety. The strong, overwhelming anxiety began to make your hard work difficult, and you quickly concluded that help would be needed.

Emerging from the room once more, you approached Felix, who seemed frozen in grief as Hyunjin's arms now draped limply around him. Your plea cut through his despair. "Felix, please, we need to help them."

His eyes, glazed with tears, slowly shifted to you, and in that moment, you heard a faint voice calling your name. Turning, you found Han struggling to sit up. His injuries, though present, seemed less severe compared to Minho, whose torn and blood-stained clothes revealed fresh wounds. Once Han managed to sit up, he slowly and weakly crawled over to Minho in which he clung to desperately, trying to staunch the bleeding, his own tears mixing with the blood on his cheek.

As you Swiftly started to comprehend the situation, you rushed over, cradling Minho in your lap. Looking at Han's pained face, your voice trembled. "Can you walk? I'll take Minho to the medical room; please don't worry about him."

Han hesitated as he held his breath, his eyes reddening as tears cascaded down his face. "He protected me." He choked out, the raw emotion in his voice cutting through the chaos, leaving a burning sensation on his injured cheek.

Your heart shattered at his words, tears welling in your eyes, stinging relentlessly. Minho's expression remained impassive, devoid of pain or emotion, his body limp and breathing laboriously. Panic surged through your veins, urging you into action. Swiftly, you tore a piece from your dress and bound it tightly around his largest wound, desperate to stem the bleeding. Han, observing your efforts, weakly offered his button-up shirt that originally laid over his T-Shirt, which you accepted, tearing more fabric to address Minho's other wounds, each wrap a fervent attempt to save him.