WINGS || Taehyung

#45 - Horrors and Truths

Every stage unfolded with such brutal clarity in front of your eyes, that you had long forgotten about the pounding in your head.

As though the metals of the gate weren't enough, Kimroe demanded Yoongi be shackled to it, with yet another pair of metal cuffs. The two guards, ripped Yoongi's shirt apart, tearing it away and exposing his pale chest before pulling him further toward the gate. They had rags over their faces, the makeshift mask poorly made. And they wore gloves - so they wouldn't burn themselves. Damned bastards.

The cry of agony that ripped from Yoongi's throat as the metal kissed his skin split your heart in two as you still lay on the ground - pretending to be unconscious - or dead; you didn't care what they thought. The forest around you went quiet, the chirping of birds long stopped and the buzzing of insets gone extinct. Only the sun shone, which was now losing its brightness as dark and heavy clouds began looming over the canopy.

'You had one job, Yoongi...' Kimroe drawled, his voice so soft that you had to strain your ears to hear him. 'And you chose to help him.' He pointed a filthy finger at Taehyung, 'Here I thought the death of your ungrateful wife was a punishment enough.' He barked out a sinister laugh, his words piercing like daggers. Yoongi had had a wife...a mate.

You heard the unmistakable flickering of fire, and you peeped. But not wholly. Still remaining on the ground, you almost let out a too-long sigh of relief as you noticed there was a gap between the crowd of the men and women that had gathered, through which you could see what Kimroe was doing.

Fire. He had summoned fire. And it was trailing down his hand like a snake, slithering down the length of his arm and to his wrist before it hit the ground with a sure thud. It was fire, yet it was solid. Burning hot, yet it did not burn. Probably because he controlled it. But then your breath hitched as you took in the entire scene. It was not a strand of fire, it was not a snake shaped from fire...

It was a whip. And a thin band of flame formed a loop around Kimroe's wrist as he held the thing by it's makeshift handle. He flicked his wrist, so hard that the thong of the flame-whip melted a clean line in the snow. Your heart stopped as he pulled a hand back. No-

A loud crack echoed through the forests, it reverberating on the floor, you taking in all the vibrations. You watched as Taehyung fell to his knees, the pain of the collision of his knees against the ground nothing compared to what was inflicted on Yoongi. But Yoongi was silent - only so much as a hiss sounding from him. You saw the wound, the gash that cut and burned his skin like it was paper. You prayed wherever Jungkook was, he was not watching this.

'It's a pity isn't it, Prince, your wife wasting her life with a human, to give birth to a waste like him?' Kimroe pointed his whip to Taehyung. Now it was the Sinner's turn to watch him with widened eyes. Yoongi was conscious enough to hiss, 'What?'

What: It echoed in your head. It was bullshit. It had to go years back if that had really happened. If Yoongi's wife had actually...had actually betrayed him. Wouldn't he have known? But then again, you remembered Yoongi tell you that his father himself was centuries old.

'Surprise, isn't it? I had told her not to. And that I would spare her one more time if she wouldn't go back to meet that wretched human male. But no-' He stopped, his lips parting in a feral smirk. '-she'd decided to get pregnant.'

'You're lying.' Taehyung growled so viciously that you had thought he was another person all together.

'Now why would I do such a thing? I suppose it could be a distraction...but my son-' Kimroe spat the word with such venom you had to close your eyes for a brief moment to calm yourself. Unleashing your own anger was like asking for your personal grave. '-here, chose to completely ignore knowing of her whereabouts.'