Kpop Sickfics & Hurtfics

Breaking Point (The8)

The concert had just ended, the roaring applause still ringing in Minghao's ears as he walked down the narrow backstage corridor. The performance had been electrifying, the air still humming with the energy of the crowd that had cheered them on. Minghao, as always, had poured everything into his performance—his heart racing, his body working in perfect harmony with the music. The adrenaline still coursed through him, but it was beginning to wane, leaving him feeling drained and in need of a quiet moment to himself.

He had seen his fellow members, their faces flushed with the excitement of the show, heading towards the post-performance interviews. But Minghao, ever the introvert, needed to take a brief detour. The hallway was dimly lit, offering a moment of solitude amidst the chaos of the show. The sharp hum of the concert lights and the scattered footsteps of staff members echoed through the halls as he walked, his thoughts lingering on the grueling schedule they would face tomorrow: more practices, fan meetings, and the endless cycle of performances.

As he rounded a corner, his gaze flickered to the end of the hallway, where a figure stood in the shadows. It was a fan, he assumed, perhaps one of the many who had been waiting outside the venue for a chance to glimpse their idols. Minghao gave a friendly wave, his usual warm smile on his lips as he assumed they were simply another excited fan who had somehow slipped past security.

But the fan didn't smile back. Instead, their expression was cold, unsettling, their eyes fixed on Minghao with an unnerving intensity that made his heart skip a beat. Something about the way they stood, rigid and unmoving, felt off, and a prickling sensation of unease began to crawl up Minghao's spine.

Before he could register what was happening, the figure lunged.

In an instant, the fan was upon him, a flash of silver catching the low light of the hallway. A knife. Minghao's eyes widened in horror as the blade sank deep into his side, the sharp pain exploding through his body like wildfire. His breath caught in his throat, and a strangled cry escaped his lips as he staggered back, his hand instinctively flying to the wound. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining the fabric of his shirt and the floor beneath him.

The world around him spun, his vision blurring with the overwhelming rush of pain and shock. He tried to stay upright, but his legs buckled beneath him, sending him crashing to the cold ground. His breaths came in shallow, labored gasps, each inhalation a struggle as his body screamed for him to lie still, but he could feel his strength waning. The floor beneath him felt impossibly distant as he reached out, desperately trying to grasp something—anything—to steady himself. His thoughts raced, but all he could focus on was the searing agony coursing through his side.

The fan's cold expression remained unchanged as they turned and fled, disappearing into the chaos of the backstage area. Minghao's cries were the only thing that broke the silence, but even that was drowned out by the distant shouts and hurried footsteps of security rushing toward the scene. His vision began to fade, the edges of his sight darkening as his body seemed to lose its fight against the pain.

Minghao's hand trembled as he clutched at his wound, the blood flowing too quickly to be contained by the flimsy barrier of his fingers. His body felt numb, his muscles weak, and his chest felt tight with the pressure of his rapid heartbeat. He was aware of the sounds of people approaching, but it felt as if they were coming from miles away. His legs gave out completely, and he collapsed onto the cold floor, his face pressed against the concrete, the pain in his side unbearable.

His head swam, and for a moment, he thought he might pass out. His mind raced—where were his members? Where was help? He tried to call out, but his voice came out as nothing more than a strained whisper, a hoarse plea for someone to come. But the world was spinning too quickly for him to even comprehend what was happening. The pain in his side had become all-consuming, his blood now pooling beneath him, making it harder to breathe.