Monsta X: The Clan Pt. 2

16: More Fun

"This game just got more fun"

Warning: Some suicidal themes. If such themes make you uncomfortable, skip this chapter.

Hyungwon:

It was getting worse by the day.

Maybe not even days. With every passing second, I was becoming more insane in this place.

Staying in an all-white room, in all-white clothes, in complete silence, with nothing to do but stare at the empty walls, at the empty room, and have to live with your own thoughts, however dark they were.

I wanted to die again because at least in the afterlife I'd see something other than these white walls. If I was gone, then at least I wouldn't have to sit here in regret, in pain, in anxiousness. At least if I was gone, the world wouldn't notice, so why not leave, was what I wondered.

But I knew why I couldn't.

Because the person sitting across from me cares.

Minhyuk cares too much.

In this room, there were only two things to look at that weren't blindingly bright. The problem was, I didn't want to look at either of them.

One was Minhyuk, with his tanned skin and dark hair, that hung over his eyes, which were cast to the ground. Every once in a while, I'd see him out of the corner of my eye, giving my long glances as though he were lost in thought.

I know that he wanted to talk to me. I wanted to talk to him. But we couldn't because the weight of what had happened was still stuck between us, however many weeks it's been. It hasn't gone away, it'll never go away. Not our emotions, not our disagreements; nothing will ever be the same between us.

It was what I had feared the most. Change.

It wasn't like we had the energy to talk to each other in the first place. They had made us weak, with whatever drugs they were giving, with whatever methods they were using.

Day by day our condition got worse. It started with seemingly light symptoms, such as headaches or slight discomforts. But as time passed we both worsened. Suddenly physical movement was torture, speaking was impossible with our dry throats, and nausea was a regular.

We were dying, slowly. We both knew it. They were using it to "fix our brains" but it was slowly killing us as the days passed and hours ticked by.

The worse part was the fact that they watched us as we were dying, almost as if we were lab rats or caged animals, only there for their amusement. They didn't treat us like humans. We weren't humans in their eyes, just because we were different.

On one side of the room, almost one entire wall was made up of a glass window, which allowed a clear view for anyone on the outside of us. Through the window, there was nothing special. Only a narrow, white hallway, that we couldn't see the end of.

Every once in a while, the "doctors" would come, in their fancy white coats and clipboards, staring at us and recording observations, whatever those were.

We were test subjects, that's who we were.

Speaking of which, I could hear voices down the hall. They were coming again, to take notes on us once more.

About five of them were there this time, and they continued the normal routine. Pacing along the wall and glancing at each of us up and down as we stared blankly back.

Our first reaction to when they had arrived was quite eventful. We had rushed at the windows screaming and yelling to be released, punching the glass and throwing objects against the unbreakable glass in a desperate attempt to escape.

During all of that, the doctors simply stood there, with a blank expression on their faces as we screamed right at them, right at their faces next to the window. All they did was jot down some notes, almost as if they were recording our explosive behavior down for their records.

With each visit, our reactions were less and less as we slowly realized that yelling at them wouldn't do any good. The glass was unbreakable, and nothing we'd say would get them to set us free.

There was no escape. That was the reality that we had accepted.

Only, this time was different than the rest.

Because coming down the hall and joining the doctor's discussion was a man whose face I never wanted to see again.

Leaning forward, he took a close look at the doctor's notes and said some things, seeming corrections. He took a close look at our room, examining every detail, however, he ignored looking at us and meeting our eye. Even still, I intensely stared back at him. I was sure Minhyuk was doing the same.

"Jooheon, you can help us finish this report right?" One of the doctor's asked.

Jooheon, in his scrubs, nodded lightly and said, "Of course. I'll help you finish the research, let me just go and confirm with the secretary that it'll be okay for now."

With that, he turned on his heels and left, not a single word or glance towards us.

And that was fine by me.

A/N

Timestamp; 2:34-2:44.

Much shorter chapter cause ain't the time or content from the M/V for a more extended version :(

Next update will be in one week (new schedule!), the upcoming Sunday of 9/16. Don't forget to vote and see you then!