Seven | Book 1 (An EXO fiction)

33.

An evil lair.

I never thought I'd ever actually live to see one. Especially not one so stereotypically designed like one.

At least, I think that I'm in an evil lair. The room is entirely unfamiliar, and it's full of dark red and blacks. From the furniture, to the walls, to the floor. It's almost too difficult to pick out where the floor begins and the walls end. I can't even tell if it's day or night through the heavily tinted window, nor can I figure out how long I've been in here.

A long metal table sits idly not far from where I am slumped on this chair. It's inclined slightly, and I'm unsure as to whether it's a place for eating, or a place for a person to lie on. Whatever its purpose, it doesn't look like it's a spot for relaxing.

I groan as my head begins to pound in pain.

Was I knocked out? My body feels heavy enough that I can assume I suffered some kind of physical toll. I stick my tongue out to wet my severely chapped lips, and taste the distinct flavor of blood.

My own I hope.

I let my head lull forward and on my light colored shirt I see small dried red stains. I must have blood still on my face. I reach up to wipe at my chin only to be held back by some kind of restraint.

I'm tied up.

Of course.

I huff in annoyance. I'm a dumbass. I am such a dumbass.

I relax against the chair and my restraints. How the fuck did I get here again?

Oh right.

I was pacing around my room when the short guy from the party came out of my closet. To say I was officially scared shitless would be a huge understatement. I was backing away when Jongin came back into my room...or so I thought. I ran over to 'Jongin' and he grabbed onto my shoulders before glaring at the short guy and asking who he was.

The dude said something like...I am the night, the fear in your heart, your very own personal hell or some shit like that and then Jongin laughed. He laughed and started having a casual conversation with one of my almost kidnappers as if they were lifelong friends. That's when I knew it couldn't have been him.

As soon as I tried to pull away I was held tighter, and the shorter came up to me and punched me right in the face.

That's when I blacked out.

Ah yes, that explains the headache...and the bleeding.

Stupid. Stupid. I am the stupidest fucking person on the planet, I ran right into my kidnapper's arms after having just talked to everyone about the previous attempt. Now, after that argument, I'm sure no one is going to come and look for me. Since time has passed and my previous anger has gone away, I realize just how much I've fucked up.

And just how much I deserved to be hit.

I don't know what got into me back there, but whatever it was, was something way beyond my experience. I've never had to deal with anger so sudden and so extreme that I've actually lashed out at others that I consider close to me. I groan louder this time, not giving a single fuck as to whether or not someone dangerous could hear me. If I'm going to die, let them kill me. I fucking deserve it.

I scan the room once again in hopes of figuring out some kind of escape route. I've never been very good at looking for ways out of things, but I'm sure a s hell going to try anyway. It feels like I'm in some kind of impenetrable box, and the window is far too high up to reach.