Third Person's Point of View
It has been a week since the incident.
The members continued with their lives, being cautious of those around them.
Jeno ordered them to follow each and every order of Diego and Jang Tae Hyuk.
After he tried to protect Eight from Diego, he knew that Diego had taken note of his action. Jeno couldn't risk getting on his bad side as it would affect the members too.
The members, on the other hand, had no choice but to follow all orders from Jeno. They killed who they were ordered to and tortured people to extract information the boss and the godfather needed.
"What's that?" Haechan asked after Jeno dropped a black envelope on their dinner table.
"Order from the boss." Jeno said and continued with eating.
"Kill or torture?" Mark said, obviously tired from following horrendous orders.
"Kill." Jeno replied as he cut down his steak with a knife.
"God, I'm so tired of this." Haechan complained and pushed away his plate.
"Eat your food. We have no time for your stupid complaints." Jeno warned and shot Haechan a glare.
"How long do we have to keep up with this? They're using us to kill everyone who gets in their way, even innocent ones. This wasn't the group we trained into." Jisung voiced out.
"Just eat your fucking food and shut your mouth. All of you know that the boss is keeping an eye on us. One order that we don't follow and he might just kill all of us. He can reason out that we're siding with Eight—with traitors and have our heads hung on the gates of the headquarters. Do you want all our hard work to disappear in one wrong move?" Jeno barked back, letting go of the silverware in his hands. The members looked away from Jeno, trying not to anger him any more.
Mark looked at Jeno with cautious eyes. He couldn't recognize the man in front of him.
It was not Jeno. It was his rage and confusion overpowering him.
Mark did not say anything. But one thing remained true, they were starting to become puppets of a petrifying system.
Eight, on the other hand, was still in a cell. It had been a week but she was still there. It hasn't been opened since she was locked up inside.
She only had bread thrown in her cell occasionally. She would often refuse to eat but when her stomach would throb in pain she would force herself to grab the bread on the floor and eat it.
Eight continuously felt nausea and dizziness. She couldn't understand why but she wished for her life to end whenever it would come.
Her floor was covered in her vomit and waste too. She could smell her own excretes but it didn't matter to her anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.
She lay flat on her back, staring into nothing, when the door of her cell suddenly opened. Light slowly shone on her face causing her to cover her eyes.
She wasn't used to light anymore—not after her stay in complete darkness for a week.
"Stand up." A voice ordered. The light was not shining throughout her body, even hurting her own skin with its radiation. The metal door was finally open.
Eight wanted to stand up but her body refused.
"I said stand up." The man standing outside her door repeated.
"I..." Eight parted her dry lips but she couldn't force noise out of her dry throat. She had not been given any water since she was locked up. It was only bread that kept her from dying.
"Idiot." The man grunted and pulled Eight's weak body. "God, you reek of your own shit." He cringed and harshly let go of Eight causing her to stumble on the floor. "Hey, you!" He called on a cleaner. She was a girl with her uniform on holding a broom.
"Y-yes, Sir?" The woman answered. She was in her 50s and had bruises on her face too from the beatings she would receive when she'd forget about the orders of the guards.
"Clean this bitch up. She can't go near the boss reeking of her waste. Make sure she doesn't escape or I'll fucking kill you." The guard ordered as he pulled her by the collar.
"Y-yes... Sir..." The woman replied. The guard stared at her one last time before pushing her away.
The cleaner approached and slowly assisted Eight.
"What happened to you, dear? Oh god." The cleaner was terrified of Eight's condition. She was covered in dried blood, especially her neck. Her wrists still had the metal chains they locked her hands in a week ago.
Eight's eyes barely opened. She couldn't open her eyes as the sun felt too invasive with her eyes. For a week, she was locked in darkness with nothing and no one beside her.
"Let's go. I have to clean you up before they get mad." The woman grabbed Eight and led her to a shower room. The shower room was an underground bathroom where some of the guards would take a bath once in a while. The floor was wet and there were different shower rooms that did not have a door. There was no privacy.
The lady gently guided Eight in one of the shower rooms. She let go of Eight but Eight was quick enough to balance herself with her tied hands with the help of the wall beside her.
The lady went back with a small chair in her hand. "Here, have a seat." Eight quickly followed and sat on the small and cold metal chair given by the lady.
Her Point of View
I was completely naked in front of the lady. She removed my undergarments that seemed to have dug into my skin because it hasn't been removed for a week.
I heard the sudden flow of water from the shower. My body was trembling with the temperature of the room. It was too cold and I could feel goosebumps forming on my skin.
The lady and I were both quiet. I wanted to ask questions to know information on where was I but my aching body was betraying me.
As soon as I felt the cold water on my skin, I hissed and pulled my arm away from the lady.
"I'm sorry." She said. "But you have to endure it. The boss does not like waiting. You might get more wounds if you make him wait." The lady warned.
He could just kill me if he wants to. I don't give a damn.
I stared into nothing once more and endured whatever liquid she was rubbing on my skin.
—•—
When she finished drying me up, she clothed me up with undergarments and a big dress that didn't seem like one. It was like a handmade dress from chunks of cloths.
"I'll let you borrow this first." She said. For the first time, I looked into her eyes. I could see pure genuineness on her face. Her skin was old and wrinkly, and she had wounds all over her face.
"How..." I spoke with a hoarse voice but I couldn't continue because my throat ached every time I used it.
How did you get your bruises? Do they hurt you here?
"Your wounds are infected, especially the one in your throat. Try not to speak too much." She advised and pulled me out of the shower room. "Whatever they do to you, be strong." The lady sighed and handed me over to a guard.
The guard quickly pulled me away but my eyes remained on the lady as I was being dragged.
And when I couldn't see her anymore, I had no choice but to face reality and wait for my approaching death.
