After a week of indulging in the high life, I finally come face to face with the charming antagonist of my story, Mr. Kim—Jiah's father and the mastermind behind the hit on her. I was forced to kneel for what felt like an eternity before I was finally allowed to see his animated face. He looks at me as if I just crawled out of a dumpster. "Has he told you where she is?" he barks at Victor, who shoots a deadly glare at Kyle. "He will," Victor replies, his voice quaking like a leaf in a storm. "Make him talk," Mr. Kim orders. My mind is screaming for me to stay silent, but my heart clearly didn't get the message and decides to take on the role of the chatterbox. So, with a bright smile, I casually mention that I'd love to add coffee to my diet and graciously thank him for the five-star treatment and my luxurious stay.
A few days go by, and guess what? I'm dragged back to face the charming villain who clearly deserves an award for his creativity. My eyes nearly pop out of my head, my heart does a little dance, and you could throw in a few more metaphors to really capture the horror of his grand plan. There's this so-called bed—if you can call it that—looking like a twisted art installation with about a thousand nails just waiting to give me a warm welcome. It's as if a sadistic artist had taken a regular bed and decided to turn it into a medieval torture device, complete with spikes that glisten ominously under the flickering fluorescent lights.
Mr. Kim flashes me a grin that could curdle milk, urging me to save myself the trouble and spill the beans on Jiah's location. His smile is a mask of false charm, a façade that barely conceals the malice lurking beneath. As I'm being hauled toward this delightful bed of nails, I manage to break free, adrenaline surging through my veins like a wild river. I strut over to Mr. Kim, my heart pounding not just from fear but from the thrill of defiance. "You're so lucky," I tell him, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "Jiah thinks you're a hero."Then, with all the enthusiasm of a misguided adventurer, I head straight for those nails, dramatically laying myself down as if I were preparing for a royal slumber. "Fit for a prince," I chuckle, the sound echoing in the tense air, watching his face turn a delightful shade of rage. The corners of his mouth twitch, and for a moment, I can see the mask slipping, revealing the true monster beneath.The nails dig into my back, and I wince, but I refuse to show any sign of weakness. The tension in the room thickens, a palpable mix of disbelief and fury. Mr. Kim's grin falters, replaced by a scowl that could shatter glass. "You think this is a game?" he growls, his voice low and dangerous. I can see the gears turning in his mind, the realization that I'm not the terrified victim he expected. The nails beneath my body are a reminder of the stakes, but I refuse to let fear dictate my actions."Not a game, Mr. Kim," I reply, my tone steady despite the throbbing pain. "This is a performance
The nails dig deeper into my skin. I'm really putting in the effort to ignore the pain, I keep chanting, "I'm the strongest!", "I'm the hero of this epic saga!" because, obviously, that's how it works, I picture Jiah, her hair dancing in the wind like a scene from a blockbuster. I find myself, slowly drifting away, caught in that delightful limbo between life and oblivion. Honestly, I'm ready to embrace either one with open arms.
