Fear | K.th [Editing]

Born Again [5°]

She hears a large door opening, her body being tugged forward. She feels the sensation of being pushed into a seat, making her gasp out at the forcefulness Park implements. She keeps the knife hidden underneath her hand, the instrument about the size of her index finger.

Park straps her wrist against the chair then her ankles follow. She doesn't bother to struggle, her sight being impaired a liability if she were to give Park a hard time. Once the captor finishes locking her to, what feels like, a metal chair she hears him leave the room. The door slamming echoes throughout the chamber then re-locking.

Evangeline sits there. Completely still. She waits a few moments to see if Park was going to come back any time soon. Going with her intuition she begins her plan. She wiggles her arms around, feeling the material of the straps. They appear to be something that can be cut through. As much as she can she starts to maneuver the utensil hidden underneath her palm upward.

The woman needs to act quickly. Anyone could walk in here while she's trying to set herself free. She stops to take a moment to breathe and gather her thoughts. Once she does start cutting through the bands around her arms and wrist, then what? Take off the blindfold. Then?

Then she will...She pauses when she hears rustling coming from beside her. Her hand instinctively pushes the knife back down as she moves her head to the side. She listens for the noise again. A daunting thought pops inside her head: was someone in here with her? Her heartbeat picks up like a drum beating inside her ears. Her skin begins to perspire in anticipation.

"Oh, princess."

Evangeline's heart drops at the sound of his voice. It was all too familiar. How could she not recognize who that was. Then her mind shifts to the utensil underneath her arm. She doesn't know where he is in the room, could he have noticed what she was doing?

She flinches when the bag over her head gets lifted. She squints to adjust to the lighting, eyes cascading from the ground up at the man before her. He smiles when their eyes meet, but the woman hastily looks away to take in her surroundings. Taehyung calls out to her, telling her to look back at him.

Reluctantly, to keep on his good side, she peers back at the man. She hates the pet name he has for her. After what she's been through in the care of him; punched in the face, strapped to a table like some live experiment, injected with an unknown substance that hurts at entry, and to lie to keep her obedient—he has the audacity to call her 'princess.' Was it to aggravate the woman? To further deride her distress.

The man standing in a black suit asks calmly if Evangeline was aware of why she's in the middle of a chamber with barely any lighting. The room smells wet. His voice echoes despite the low tone. She answers with the shake of her head, arms still fidgeting against the straps. He rolls his neck, letting out a drawn sigh. "Were you talking to another patient?"

Evangeline tries her best to keep her facial expressions dull in hopes to hide the truth. She's unsure how to answer. The way he questioned her was odd. She saw the cameras, but could they pick up on sound? If he's asking her like that then that means they saw her mouth moving and the way she looked up. However, she doesn't know the range that the camera picks up.

Does that also mean...he saw her take the knife? Of course not, her back was facing the camera and Park and her body were in the view of the metal tray. Though, she didn't think to look around for any other cameras despite the one she could see when strapped to the medical table. Her mind too focused on the only chance at grabbing the instrument.

She opts to not say anything at all, instead lowering her eyes down to her lap. She hears the tapping of his shoes as they come forward. Taehyung crouches down. The man chuckles, hand coming up to his face. "I...I almost went beserk when I found out." Then his hand lowers as he stares at his palm. "I had to do something, to suppress my anger. I told you you were my favorite. Did I not?" He looks up at the woman, expecting a response to his confession. His obsessive adoration turns sour, gaze shifting into a glare at the lack of attention. "You never answer me anymore."