Taken by the Mafia ✧⁠*⁠。

Episode 8

Santa and Barcode trapped in the dark, cold chamber, the hours crawling by in silence. The room, barely lit by the faint bulb overhead, felt like a suffocating cell. The concrete walls absorbed the warmth, leaving the space frigid. Barcode, curled up beside Santa, was trembling not only from the cold but also from the overwhelming fear that gnawed at him. Santa could feel his younger brother’s anxiety through the shaky breaths he took. In an attempt to comfort him, Santa wrapped his arms around Barcode, pulling him close to offer some warmth and a sense of safety, even though his own body was worn and chilled.

"It’s okay, Barcode," Santa whispered softly, resting his chin on Barcode’s head. "We'll get through this."

But despite his words, Santa’s mind was racing with thoughts of escape. He knew they couldn’t stay here forever—something had to give. He just didn’t know when, or how, and the uncertainty weighed on him.

Suddenly, the sound of the door unlocking echoed through the room, making both of them flinch. Barcode stiffened in Santa’s arms, his small body going rigid with fear. The door creaked open, and standing there, casting a shadow over them, was Perth.

Perth held a small bottle of mineral water and two pieces of bread in his hands, and his expression was as cold as the room itself. He tossed the items carelessly onto the floor in front of Santa and Barcode. The bottles clattered loudly against the concrete, the sound jarring in the otherwise oppressive silence.

Santa’s blood boiled at the sight. After locking them up in this dark, damp room, Perth had the nerve to show up with nothing but water and bread. His fists clenched in anger, and he couldn't hold back the sharp words that escaped his lips.

"Seriously?" Santa scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "You take us from our father, lock us in this fucking dark room, and now you bring us a couple of pieces of bread like we're dogs?" His heart raced as he glared up at Perth, his defiance shining through.

Perth didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he crouched down, lowering himself so that he was eye-level with Santa. His gaze was icy, his expression unreadable. He leaned in closer, his face inches away from Santa’s. The tension between them was palpable.

"You’re such an ungrateful brat,"  Perth said slowly, his voice low and menacing. His eyes narrowed as he studied Santa's face, waiting for a reaction.

Santa didn’t flinch. Instead, his anger surged, and his voice came out in a bitter hiss. "Maybe I act like this because of you!"

Before Santa could register what was happening, Perth’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. In one swift motion, Perth slammed Santa hard against the wall. The impact made Santa’s body jolt in pain, and Barcode’s frightened gasp filled the room as he watched in horror.

"Listen here, you brat," Perth growled, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. His grip on Santa’s wrist tightened, sending a wave of pain up Santa’s arm. "Be grateful I’m even giving you food. I could easily leave you and your fucking brother to starve."

"Please, let my brother go!" Barcode screamed, his voice shaking, tears streaming down his face. He was panicking, his small body trembling as he tried to reach for Santa. But Perth’s grip was unyielding, keeping Santa pinned to the wall.

Santa clenched his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes. "Let me go, you asshole!" he spat, trying to yank his wrist free from Perth’s grip.

Perth’s patience snapped. His eyes darkened as he leaned in closer. "Call me an asshole one more time, and I’ll fucking slap you."

Santa's gaze remained defiant, his breathing heavy. He wasn’t going to let Perth scare him. He scoffed, glaring back with all the strength he could muster. "Do I look like I care, huh? Asshole."