Ye Joon died and got reincarnated into the body of a villain who's destined to die at a young age. But Ye Joon was no pushover idiot.
Warning: Rpe, imprisonment, obsessive/yandere characters. This book is NOT romanticizing these things. I wrote this...
Hanbal wiped the sweat from his forehead as he entered the large door. with Berenike close behind him. It had taken them the entire afternoon to walk back, since everything looked the same. Although he was glad to be able to find shelter before the darkness fell, the scene before him made him wish he could bolt and run in the opposite direction.
The exact moment his foot crossed through the garden's side door, two guards rushed forward and seized him, while another gently took hold of Berenike. Because the two guards were over six feet tall and heavily built, they practically lifted him by both arms, leaving him gangling in midair. With every step they took, he swayed like laundry in the wind. Each time they turned a corner, his body would jerk awkwardly to the side, his hips bumping softly against the guard's armor.
"Where are we going..." Hanbal asked.
The guards just glanced at him with expressionless eyes. Hanbal just bit his lips, knowing he probably won't get any answers from them. When he craned his neck back slightly, he noticed Berenike was no longer following him and was instead being led elsewhere. This made his heart pump out of his chest.
After a short while, the guards stopped in front of a large double door. They gently set him down and knocked, causing it to swing open. Butler Shen stood tall and intimidating, his eyes holding their usual coldness, and his lips were curved into a faint frown. Though age had stripped him of much of his youthful charm, he still looked as striking as ever.
"The Lord is waiting, young master," Butler Shen murmured as he bent down. "And you should be careful about what you say."
He smoothed Hanbal's disheveled hair and smiled gently, his eyes slightly warmer than they had been moments before. His palms felt familiar - nice, almost comforting. Despite that, Hanbal instinctively tensed and shrank away from the old man's hands. Butler Shen did not linger and gestured for Hanbal to step inside.
The study was noticeably colder, more suffocating. It felt like stepping into an entirely different world - one where he was prey, walking straight into a predator's jaw.
At the far end of the room, seated behind a large mahogany desk, was Osric. His gaze was fixed on a book, his hands gripping his pen so tightly that his fingertips were white as snow. His hair, wavy and black like wolven silk, drifted over his face, concealing any trace of expression.
"Father," Hanbal called softly, his hands clasped behind his back. The oppressive atmosphere made it clear that Osric was in a foul mood. Fear pressed heavily against his chest, urging him to explain himself - to insist it wasn't his fault. But the words refused to come. "Did you need -"
The scrape of Osric's thick wooden chair against the floor cut him off, the grating noise making Hanbal's sensitive ears ring. The air felt sharp against his skin, the hair on his neck standing on end. His heart poundedwildly, like a trapped animal desperate to flee.
Osric approached him slowly, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. His hair swayed gently, shadowing cold amber eyes and arched brows. His lips rested in a neutral line, betraying nothing. The dimming sunlight pouring through the windows cast long shadows over Hanbal, making him look even smaller than he already was.
Hanbal wanted to retreat - to run, to hide, to beg and cry until his throat burned. Every instinct screamed that something terrible was about to happen. He could tell something dangerous was going to happen. He could tell he was in a dangerous situation. But he bit his lips and stood still because he knew it would only make it worse.
"Father. I was going to come see you, but -"
Before he could explain himself, Osric's large hand swung across his small face. The impact sent Hanbal crashing to the floor with a dull thud. Osric was taller and far more muscular than the average male, so despite being able to take most punches, this felt like a sledgehammer striking his skull. He gasped, spilling out saliva and blood onto the floor. He could feel the right side of his face burning and his ears ringing loudly. His jaws felt close to dislocating, pain radiating through his head as his chest heaved violently.
Osric knelt and brushed Hanbal's sticky hair away from his eyes, his touch warm and deceptively gentle. Still coughing and trembling, Hanbal glanced up, fear causing his small body to shake uncontrollably. Osric looked so soft - almost loving - like a doting father gazing down at his most cherished child. But to Hanbal, that gentleness was monstrous. That sweetness felt poisonous, and his fingertips were cold on his heated skin.
Driven by panic, Hanbal tried to crawl away, his thoughts dissolving into chaos. The only thing he could think of was to escape. To leave and hide.
"I...I'm sorry..." he gasped, his fingers clawing weakly at the carpet.
Osric smiled serenely.
"Hanbal," he murmured, gripping Hanbal's thin ankles with a rough hand. He did not pull him back - just held him there, like shackles.
"N-no. No, I'm sorry," Hanbal licked his cracked lips, struggling uselessly against the grip.
"While I waited for you like a dog, you were out with that girl," Osric sighed, feigning sorrow. "Do you know how sad I was? Waiting for hours for you to show up?"
"N-not my fault. The twins... They wanted to show me something... Its not my fault. I'm sorry," Hanbal sobbed as the grip tightened, pain blooming through his leg. This body is used to pain, but this hurts far more than it should have.
Osric sighed. "Sigh... What am I going to do with you..."
He rose to his feet, still holding Hanbal by the ankle, lifting him off the ground. Blood rushed to Hanbal's head as his nails scraped the carpet desperately. Osric dragged him towards the door, Hanbal's chest scraping across the hardened floor, skin burning raw.
"No! No! Where are we going?! Father!"
Osric ignored him, dragging the struggling boy through the hallways at an unhurried pace. He ignored the servant's gaze and the cries from the floor. The floor was clean, but mercilessly rough, drawing cries of pain from Hanbal with every movement. By the time Osric stopped, Hanbal's chest was rubbed so red that it looked like his upper skin peeled off. His once soft, youthful face was twisted in agony, tears streaming from his cat-like eyes, frill spilling from the corner of his mouth. He looked so pitiful that it could arouse pity from even the coldest of hearts.
Osric just sighed and gently picked Hanbal by the waist. He cradled his small body against his chest and stroked his silky white hair with disturbing tenderness.
"My dear," he whispered, wiping away the tears. "You made me wait for hours like a dog. This is your punishment."
Hanbal gasped as he was gently placed down. Before he could react, the doors slammed shut, enveloping him in pure darkness. Hanbal cried out and hit his fist against the door, his heart pounding against his chest so loud that he could barely hear his own sobs.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorryyyyy!" His cries dissolved into hysterical sobbing as bile rose in his throat. He realized he was put in a small closet - no light, only a narrow gap beneath the door. He could feel Osric outside the door, but it was clear he wouldn't be let out.
Fear gripped him. Memories of the original Hanbal being locked up by the servants for days with no food and water. His hands shook so hard that they went numb. His scalp tingled, and he could feel liquid dripping down his nose.
"Please...I'm...I'm sorry..."
----- Hanbal in Ye Joon's old body.
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