Desolate Innocence ||T.K.V||

▶︎Chapter-8▶︎

Jungkook's heart pounded in his chest as he hesitated, his body trembling with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Slowly, he lifted his head, opening his eyes to meet the gaze of the voice's owner. A tall, imposing figure stood before him, draped in the opulent robes that signified power and authority in this mansion. The figure's eyes glinted with a cruel amusement, a predatory gleam that sent another shiver down Jungkook's spine.

The other maids remained silent, their faces pale and expressions blank, as if resigned to the dark reality of their existence. The room seemed to close in around Jungkook, the grandeur now feeling suffocating rather than awe-inspiring.

The raspy voice cut through the heavy silence, pulling Jungkook out of his spiraling thoughts. He flinched hard, his entire body tensing as if expecting a blow. The tall figure's amusement deepened, a smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey little beauty, back to earth," the voice repeated, this time with a mocking edge. Jungkook's eyes darted around, seeking an escape or some form of reassurance, but all he found were the indifferent faces of the other maids.

"Did you not hear me?" The figure's tone grew sharper, more menacing. Jungkook swallowed hard, forcing himself to nod. He couldn't afford to anger this person, not when he was already so vulnerable.

"Good," the figure said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now, let's see what you're really made of."

The figure motioned for Jungkook to follow, turning on his heel and striding towards a grand set of double doors at the far end of the room. Jungkook hesitated for a fraction of a second before trailing after him, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floor. As they passed through the doors, the opulence of the mansion gave way to a dimly lit hallway, its walls adorned with portraits of stern-faced ancestors.

The figure led him into a small, windowless room, the air thick with tension. Jungkook barely had time to register his surroundings before the figure whirled around, his eyes now blazing with uncontained rage.

"Do you think you can just stand there and defy me?" he snarled, his voice a low growl that made Jungkook flinch. Before Jungkook could respond, a heavy hand came crashing down on his cheek, sending him stumbling back.

"You think you're special? You think you deserve better than the rest of them?" the figure continued, each word punctuated by another blow. Jungkook's vision blurred with tears and pain, but he forced himself to stay upright, knowing that any sig of weakness would only provoke more violence. The figure grabbed Jungkook by the collar, yanking him close until their faces were inches apart. "You're nothing but a worthless servant," he spat, his breath hot against Jungkook's skin. "Remember that."

With a final shove, the figure let go, sending Jungkook sprawling to the floor. He stood over him, chest heaving, as if taking out every bit of frustration and anger on Jungkook.
Jungkook curled into a ball, trying to shield himself from the onslaught. He could feel the bruises forming, the sting of the strike searing into his memory. The room seemed to spin around him, the grandeur of the mansion a cruel mockery of his suffering.

Finally, the figure stepped back, his breathing heavy. "Clean yourself up," he ordered, his tone cold and detached. "And don't let me catch you slacking again." With that, he turned and left the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Jungkook lay there for a moment, trembling and broken, before slowly dragging himself to his feet. He knew he had to keep going, no matter the pain, no matter the fear. There was no other choice.

☁︎☁︎☁︎

Jungkook returned to the hall with blueish bruises on his pale, round face. Each step felt like a monumental effort, his body aching from the beating he had endured. The utmost shame had eaten him up, and he sniffed silently, his head bowed down to avoid the curious or pitying gazes of others.