Desolate Innocence ||T.K.V||

▶︎Chapter 11▶︎

When hope shatters into a million pieces, it becomes almost impossible to piece it back together. That fragile light, once so precious, slips through one's fingers, leaving behind only remnants of what could have been. This was exactly what happened to Jungkook.
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For a brief period, life had seemed to offer him a reprieve. Master Kim's unexpected kindness had been a beacon in the darkness, lifting some of the burdens from Jungkook's shoulders. The once-cruel routines had softened, and Jungkook began to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, there was a chance for something better within the mansion's imposing walls.

But destiny, as capricious as it is, has a way of twisting expectations. What had seemed like a turn for the better was suddenly upended. Jungkook found himself in a nightmarish void of uncertainty. Master Kim, the one person whose actions had sparked a glimmer of hope in him, was nowhere to be seen. His absence was like a gaping void, swallowing any semblance of comfort Jungkook had managed to find.

Days stretched into a hazy blur. Jungkook's attempts to seek out Master Kim or get answers were met with dead ends. The man who had once offered him respite was now an elusive figure, his whereabouts unknown. Jungkook's attempts to contact him yielded nothing but silence.

Without Master Kim's presence, the mansion's cruel reality came crashing back down. The maids, no longer restrained, resumed their harsh treatment with renewed vigor. The brief respite had evaporated, replaced by a mounting workload and a resurgence of taunts and insults.

"So, the little bitch got a taste of freedom, huh?" one of the maids sneered, her voice dripping with scorn. "Looks like it didn't do you any good. Back to being useless as always!"

The others chimed in with harsh laughter. "What did you expect? Just a momentary relief before you're back to being nothing but a burden."

The maids towered over Jungkook, their broad frames and imposing height making him look even smaller in comparison. He knelt on the cold floor, his gaze fixed blankly on the head maid's shoes, as she shouted down at him.

"You think you're special now?" the head maid barked. "Get it through your head—you're still just a worthless little servant. Nothing changes that!"

With a cruel smirk, another maid added, "Why don't you just quit pretending? You're here to clean up our mess, and that's all you'll ever be good for."

The maids proceeded with their torment. One of them grabbed a bucket of soapy water and tipped it over Jungkook's head, drenching him thoroughly. "Here, clean this up!" she ordered, pointing to the spilled water with a sneer. "And make sure you don't miss a spot!"

Another maid shoved a heavy mop into his hands, the bristles worn and grimy. "You missed a corner!" she yelled, forcing him to scrub the floor with renewed intensity. "If you can't even do that right, you don't deserve any mercy."

Jungkook silently accepted the cruel treatment. His hands trembled as he worked, the harsh words and actions from the maids pressing down on him like an unrelenting weight. He remained stoic, trying to block out the verbal abuse and the physical strain, his only response being the quiet, mechanical completion of his tasks.

Jungkook trudged into the kitchen after scrubbing the living room, his shoulders slumped from the weight of his burdens. The maids, gathered in a corner, chattered and laughed loudly. Their conversation stopped abruptly as he entered, and an almost tangible sense of malice filled the air.

"Oh look, it's the little mop boy," one maid said with a sneer. "Decided to grace us with your presence?"

Jungkook silently walked to the sink, where a mountain of greasy, stained dishes awaited him. He began scrubbing with a worn-out sponge, the soap harsh on his raw hands.