Yandere BTS Oneshots.

The Unseen Chains || OT7

Y/n had never imagined her life would take such a dark turn. Orphaned at a young age, she had been taken in by a group of men who seemed to offer protection and a sense of family. It wasn't long before she realized the price of their generosity. These were no ordinary men; they were the most powerful mafia leaders in South Korea, and she was their possession.

Months of careful planning led her to this moment. Under the cover of night, she fled from the sprawling mansion that served as both her prison and the headquarters of their operations. Every step she took away from that place felt like a small victory, but she knew her escape was far from guaranteed.

Desperation drove her to the police station, a beacon of hope in her otherwise bleak world. She burst through the doors, breathless and terrified, and approached the front desk where a middle-aged officer sat.

"Please, help me," she pleaded. "I'm running from the mafia. They've been holding me against my will."

The officer's brow furrowed with concern as he leaned forward. "Calm down, miss. What are their names?"

Y/n hesitated, then whispered, "They're known as the Seven Dragons: Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hosoek, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook."

The color drained from the officer's face. The Seven Dragons were infamous, their reach extending into every corner of the country. They were untouchable.

Before he could respond, the door of the station burst open. The Seven Dragons, imposing and menacing, filled the room. Their leader, Namjoon, locked eyes with Y/n, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

Y/n's heart pounded as she looked to the officer for help. To her horror, he averted his gaze and walked away, abandoning her in her moment of need. Panic surged through her as the mafia leaders approached.

Namjoon produced a handkerchief soaked in chloroform. "You've caused us a lot of trouble, Y/n darling." he said, pressing it to her face.

Her struggles were futile. The world blurred and darkened as the chemical took effect. The last thing she heard was their mocking laughter.

She awoke in a dimly lit basement, her wrists and ankles bound tightly to a cold metal chair. The seven men stood before her, their expressions a mixture of anger and amusement.

"You thought you could escape us?" Yoongi sneered. "You belong to us."

They began their cruel work, torturing her in ways that defied human comprehension. Blows rained down on her, her screams echoing off the concrete walls. They used knives to carve symbols into her skin, each cut a reminder of her failed escape.

After what felt like hours, they paused. Y/n's body was a canvas of pain, her mind a shattered mosaic of fear and despair. Namjoon leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.

"If you ever try to escape again," he hissed, "we'll make sure you suffer beyond your wildest nightmares. We'll brand you with a hot iron, let it sear your skin until you beg for mercy."

The others laughed, their evil mirth filling the room. Y/n's resolve wavered, the weight of her hopeless situation pressing down on her.

The days that followed were a blur of agony and false kindness. They treated her wounds with cold efficiency, whispering hollow apologies and offering empty comforts. The stark contrast between their violence and their feigned care was a twisted game they seemed to enjoy.

Her spirit was battered, but a small, flickering flame of defiance remained within her. She couldn't afford to let it die, even as she endured their unimaginable tortures.

In the quiet moments, when the pain subsided to a dull throb, she plotted. She knew another escape attempt was a long shot, but she had to believe there was a way out. The chains that bound her were strong, but she was determined to find a crack in their fortress of power.