The Devil Within

Seeping Through the Cracks

The first thing Jimin is aware of after he regains consciousness is that he can't open his eyes, and he can't figure out why. His immediate reaction is to bring his hands to his face to see what's wrong, but when he tries, he feels a heavy pull on his wrists and the sound of colliding chains. He tries one more time but to no avail. He feels the thick metal around his wrists holding them together. He feels his arm muscles become strained as they're hung over his head, forcing him to be in a sitting position.

The second thing he is aware of is the miasma of stale sweat and rust intoxicating his nose, and he knows the smell is coming from him. How long have I been here? is his first coherent thought. His senses are slowly coming back to him when he feels nausea bubble in the lowest pits of his stomach. He scrunches his nose and feels a fabric rub the bridge of it.

That's when he understands exactly what situation he's in, and his heartbeat starts to speed up painfully against his weak chest. He's blindfolded and chained up, completely devoid of sight and completely numb, and he knows. He knows he's been kidnapped, but he can't remember from where or when. He can't remember by whom. His mind is hazy, pounding, and caving in. He can't even summon a single memory of where he last was; he can't remember the last time that he was safe.

It's so deafeningly quiet that he can hear his own unsteady breathing. "H-help..." he croaks out. He knows calling for help will be in vain, but he continues to. "P...lease, h-help..."

Only silence answers him, and he knows he's alone in... wherever he is. It can be a small room, it can be a warehouse, he has no idea, but the silence is too much for him. He needs to break free and get out of here.

He tries to move around as much as he can. He thrashes his body from side to side, but his tied arms above his head hold him in place. He uses the chains to wrap his hands around and starts to propel his body upwards in an irrational hope of climbing his way out. But his ankles are chained tightly to the ground, giving him no space to move. He uses all his strength to pull his legs up and break his ankles out of the constraint, but the rusty metal digs into his skin in response.

His arms give out, and he lets go of the chains above him and comes crashing to the ground. He cries out loudly as his tied arms pull violently against his body's momentum and shoot sparks of agonizing pain into his shoulders. His heart is beating so hard that he can swear it's seconds away from breaking through his ribcage.

Calm down, Jimin, calm down, he tells himself urgently.

He takes breath after breath, listening as his erratic heart slows down. Moving about won't help him, so he needs to think. Think about how he got here.

The last thing he remembers is passing out at the hands of someone, but who? He remembers it happening, but he can't remember whose face he saw or if he even saw a face at all. He wants to cry out and scream in frustration, but he's too weak to even do that. When is the last time I ate or drank? His stomach protests inside his body, and he feels his arms grow even weaker in response.

Just when his breathing becomes steady, he hears a shutter go off.

Jimin's breath hitches and catches in his throat. Someone is here.

"W-who's there?"

He hears it again, another shutter.

Someone is here... and is taking pictures.

Jimin begins to struggle in his restraints as much as he can once again. He feels the bindings tearing the skin around his wrists and ankles. The pain is brutal, but his panicked mind completely blocks it out as it's taken over with the grave need to escape.