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32. Focus, Angel

Yuna's eyes slowly opened. Her head was rolled to one side at an awkward angle, cheek resting against her shoulder. Everything about this moment overtook her senses in the most unpleasant ways. She ached to the extent that each injury radiated pain in every direction, making her unsure which parts of her were actually injured, since it all blurred together and made it feel as though her entire body was broken. She rolled her head forward and looked down, wincing from the pain that shot down the side of her neck from the movement.

Thick rope was tied around her ribcage and weaved through the slats in the back of the chair, squeezing her so tightly that even a small movement made her gasp and feel like she would vomit. Her wrists were bound to the arms of the chair, though she noticed one of her shoulders slumped oddly and she had no sensation in her arm or fingers. However, when she pulled back to test the tightness of the ropes, it felt as though her arm was being ripped off near her shoulder and she struggled with everything she had to not scream out from the pain. Dislocated, she thought. The dried blood on on her cheek made her face itch, but she felt the warmth of the fresh trickle that still spilled down the side of her head and soaked the fabric of her shirt.

Her vision was hazy in the dim light. The room was mostly empty, old, dirty. It had a hot, stuffy smell to it that made her scrunch up her nose. She could hear clattering and heavy, uneven footsteps from behind her. She held her breath and listened as they came nearer and even though she knew he was approaching, she still jumped when he appeared in her peripherals.

He stood in front of her, eyeing her up and down, his beady eyes gleaming as he bit his lower lip.

"I couldn't see you well back then at the alley, but it's you. You are unmistakable." The corner of his lip twitched up into a crooked smile. "You know me, right?"

She glared at him without giving an answer.

"You won't talk to me? That hurts my feelings. I don't have many people to talk to out here and I especially enjoy the company of a pretty woman, so tell me, what can I do for you to give me some attention?" He crouched in front of her with difficulty as he struggled to keep his noticeably braced knee from bending too much. His gaze lingering on her thighs as a grunt rumbled in his chest, then traced up her body until their eyes met.

Their faces were level and he was close enough to get a good look at him now. His face was wide, his skin puckered and uneven on most of the surface. His dry, crusted lips were thin and mangled into a permanent snarl and he glistened from oil and sweat. His thick hair fell back past his ears in greasy waves and his clothes were torn and messy. He leaned forward so he was inches from her face and his breath fanned over her, a pungent stench of death.

After staring at her for a moment, he tilted his head and slowly leaned in, shutting his eyes as his nose buried in the crook over her neck. He inhaled deeply and he breathed out a deep moan.

"You smell as good as you look." He said with his nose buried in her hair.

She shivered and tried to push herself away from him, but the chair only allowed her to go so far. The harsh smell of body odor emanated from him and she tried to conceal the reflexive gag.

"Talk to me, angel. What's my name?" He whispered, only millimeters away from the skin of her collar bone.

She didn't answer again, half because she was terrified and half because she was too stubborn to do what he told her to.

"I'll get you to say my name somehow." His hand rested on her knee and slowly creeped up her leg, moving his hand so that his fingers brushed her inner thigh, slowly tracing upward.

"K-kyung Chul. You are Kyung Chul." She blurted out before he could get any further. His hand stopped and he pulled away from her, laughing.

"That's right, princess." He stood back up and casually leaned back against a table that was next to her. "That little bastard Taeyong is going to get what's owed to him and you're going to help me." He uncrossed his arms and reached for something behind him. "I'd like to tell you this is all business, but, quite frankly, I'm going to make sure it's fun for me more than anything. Who knows, maybe you'll enjoy it too, angel."

"You're disgusting." She said, making her voice even, though her body was shaking in fear, cold sweat forming drops along her temples. She turned her head with a wince and spit at him.

He looked at her quietly and then burst out into laughter.

"You are cute. Fiesty. I like that. That reminds me, though, I owe something to you as well." He held up the bandaged arm that she had sliced open when trying to free Da Reum. "Let's have matching ones." He grinned, pulling a knife from the table next to him and running his finger across the back edge. "But we'll get to that later. Right now, I have something else in mind."

He crouched in front of her again, placing the knife at his side.

"I have to admit, I'm a leg man. You are short and I wish your legs were longer, but damn. They are shaped perfectly and they are really getting to me." He reached forward and placed his palms at the sides of her hips and squeezed. My favorite parts are here. These thighs." His hands moved downward, caressing the curves of her thighs with his thick, calloused fingers. "And here." They traveled down the angles of her knees, grabbing the back is her calves, then further until he grasped both of her ankles. "And here."

Her muscles tensed and she sat rigidly.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off of me, you creepy bastard." She said through her teeth, trying to pull her legs free from his grip. He ignored her and only held on tighter.

"I really want to know how they look completely bare. I wonder how your skin feels." He let go of her ankles and pulled off her shoes, then moved back up to her waist, tugging at the button of her jeans.

"Stop it." Her steady voice began to waver. She tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but her body was bound too tight. It only hurt to move. It was useless anyway, because no matter how much she struggled, his grasp only tightened and held her still.

Her zipper came down next and he pulled at the waistband of her pants hard, yanking them down roughly enough to pull her butt up from off the chair to get them down around her hips and then to her knees. She coughed from the pressure of the ropes around her as she moved. She curled her legs back under the chair and used every ounce of strength she had to keep him from straightening them and taking her pants all the way off. Growing tired of her obstinance, in a quick move he grabbed the knife from beside him and stabbed it into the seat of the chair next to her leg. She gasped and froze.

"It will be easier if you just cooperate, honey."

Her mind went blank and her body went limp as she stared at the knife just centimeters away from her flesh. He took the opportunity to finish what he was doing, peeling her pants off and then taking off her socks. He stood back, holding her ankles so her legs were stretched out in front of her.

"Mmm.." he exclaimed with a low rumble in his throat. "You know, I could live without pussy if I could just keep legs like this with me all the time." He brought the bottoms of her feet up to the bulge in his pants and rubbed himself against her. "They feel just as good."

She kicked up and pulled her legs back and forth, trying to reach out and kick him, but he caught her ankles again and held them tightly with one hand, while his other reached forward and pulled the knife out from the chair. He lightly raked the tip down the side of her thigh. She stopped moving.

"Good girl. If you still want to keep these attached to you, you'd better cut that shit out."

He knelt down in front of her and brought her legs up, resting her ankles on his shoulders. Her lower body shook as his hands wrapped around the tops of her knees and his mouth glided up and down the length of her legs, his tongue tracing the shape of each part he had mentioned before. His breathing grew heavy and he started to suck hard at her inner thighs. 

"I hope you'll look at these marks later and think of me." Their eyes met as he smirked from between her legs. She turned her head away in disgust.

When she looked away, he bit down into her flesh. She gasped from the pain and his eyes brightened with her reaction.

The longer this went on, the more difficult it was for her to keep herself together. Why is he doing this? What will happen next? She wondered. Tears clouded her vision and all she could do for herself was put her mind somewhere else. She shut her eyes tight and tried to think of anything besides this moment, until a searing pain across the top of her forearm violently pulled her back to reality. She screamed out from the sting, her eyes meeting his satisfied face and then glancing to the long gash on her arm.

"Matching." He grinned. "I need you to focus, angel. I haven't even started yet."