fiendish heart [1]

20 。you? me? or them

Pain flared up across Kook's ghostly cheeks that were shoved against the cold muddy ground. His eyes screwed shut as the end of a boot shoved into the lower crook of his back and pressed against his spine. After the hours of mindless torture, the physical impact of the pain had subsided to bearable. It was the mental thoughts swimming in his mind that were truly to blame for his deterioration.

„Let's get some colour into that pretty little face of yours." Hoseok growled against his ear, shoving a hand down on top of his head so that his face fell inches from the muddy ground. Rain was pouring down around them and in a way it was soothing, the ice cold droplets falling against his searing skin.

„Stop ... please." Kook tried pleading once more, attempting to pull his hands from Jimin's tight fastened grip holding both of his arms behind him in a contorted manner. „ I will do anything. Just please," By now his voice was broken-down and guttural, listless to the point of apathy towards his own death.

„Anything?" Jimin asked, amused by his plead. With no further words his arms were freed. In an instant his body gave out and he collapsed to the forest floor, wheezing into the mud as he fell onto his side, coughing up the missing breath that had gotten caught in his throat. Blood dripped down his chin as he wiped it off, trying to ignore his head pumping with adrenaline. Stay in your place, you deserve this.

„What do you want me to do?" Kook squeaked, sounding wretched as he stumbled to his feet, body shivering in the damp shredded garments hanging off his body.

„Hmm ..." his audience hummed in slurred tones, all of them were drunk with hatred, using this state of chaos to get back at him without having any regrets. Seokjin and Taehyung were nowhere to be found, had hadn't seen them since he'd returned to camp and Seokjin had informed them all of his acts. He knew he would have to pay a price, but this was too much. „Bite yourself."

„What?"

„You heard me you little rat. Bite yourself with those rotten teeth. Come on Kook, don't tell me the iddy widdy baby is scared now? What happened to that confidence when you were on your murderous high?" Sniveled Hoseok as he gestured for Jimin to return to his side. Kook lowered his head, staring at the backs of his hands as he ran his tongue along the sharp edges of his teeth. It was a uncomfortable when he did so, a reminder of his wrongs. You deserve this, he declared to himself as he carefully sputtered,

„Where?" There was a moment of soft murmurs before they replied,

"Your joints." Kook felt bile creep up his throat. The sanity left in him was enough to never dare pierce the joint of the limbs, it was morbid torture. The injury never healed unless one was to be bedridden for a month.

„All of them?" He swallowed as he lifted his head to see eager nods of the four; Hoseok and Jimin their ring leaders. By now his hands were shaking with fear, eyes glowing with the strong emotions coursing through his body. Run! His mind was screaming. But the taunts and encouragements kept him grounded as he bit lightly into his tongue. He lifted his arm slowly to his face, bending it so that the skin on the joint of his forearm was in front of his lips. For a moment, he couldn't do it and he went to lower his arm and refuse. But then the subconscious thoughts he had been trying so hard to avoid since the moment his high had worn off came back to him.

Taehyung loathes you. He will want to kill you after what you have done. He will enjoy this. You should kill yourself, show him how worthless you are.

Pain shot up his bicep as he screamed into his arm, the awful reverb ringing in the trees as he dropped to the ground with his knees dug into cold mud. Ecstatic chants filled his ears as he felt two, three tears slip down his cheeks.