dancing with our hands tied (by purplemango445 )

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His vision was spotty.

All he could see was the blood rushing into his eyes and the distinct glare of headlights.

He felt stuck. Unable to move from his seat.

That's when a woman in a black mask came up to the shattered window.

"The boy is still alive. Should we kill him?"

A man in a similar attire walked up to the window and looked at him.

He must have started crying because his tears seemed to run down his cheeks.

"No, let's take him."

That's when the man grabbed him and pulled him out of the vehicle.

He let out a yell, one the man muffled with his glove.

He turned to see the wrecked car and the dead bodies of his parents.

The tears fell faster, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

He couldn't look at them. He couldn't see their broken bodies.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his leg.

His vision blurred until he descended into unconsciousness.

~~~~~~

He woke up to find himself in a room, in a bed.

Or what seemed to be a bed.

It wasn't long after that the man and woman came back.

He had tried to escape, but his attempt was futile.

Instead, all he got was a sharp slap to the cheek and the realization he was truly alone.

They had left him shortly after, saying that they would be taking him out for dinner shortly.

The restaurant that he would eventually find himself in again while on the mission.

He found himself sobbing to sleep with bloody indents on his skin.

The next morning, he was woken up bright and early.

The man introduced himself as Mr. Pyo and the woman as Ms. Song.

They were now his parents, just like they told him last night.

His Mom and Dad were dead, and these were his parents.

They had always been his parents, they reminded him.

His true Mom and Dad. But deep down, he would never accept that.

They told him about their profession. Professional assassins.

Killers. These were the same people who killed his actual parents.

He couldn't help but feel the anger rise within him.

All Mr. Pyo did was smile as if he knew his exact thoughts.

"Well, Mun, we've decided you can be a helpful asset to us. Would you like to do something for us?"

All he did was spit on the ground.

Smack.

At this point, he anticipated the pain of Mr. Pyo's hand on his cheek.

"Well, it's not like you really have a choice, Mun-ie." Ms. Song said with a gleeful smile.