Death Threat

Five ❤

Donghyuck's POV

What am I supposed to do?

The silver object and the crumpled paper were laid out infront of me on the table, the intention behind them was clear and the words played on repeat in my head. I paced back and forth for a while before sitting back down to observe the knife again, something I found myself to be doing non-stop for the past few hours.

I picked the knife up and held it infront of me above my arm, lightly tracing the letter 'L' onto my skin. The moment I would attempt to carve it onto my skin, my consciousness would hold me back from pressing the knife down any harder onto my arm.

Frustration and desperation to get out of this dilemma took over me as I threw the knife into the bed.
I grabbed my jacket and opened my window to exit through the stairs meant as a fire-escape route.

It was already dark, but I needed to clear my head from the words from the paper.
I rubbed my arms which had goosebumps all over them and wore the jacket. The cold wind send a shudder through my body. I hugged my body tightly as I crossed the street, the path I was walking on had no specific destination. My mind drifted back to the letter no matter how many times I tried to get it out of my head.

'L'?
Why 'L'?
Is that jerk immature enough to make me write 'Loser' on my arm?

"..Lee! Mark Lee! Where are you going?"

I turned my head in the direction of the voice and saw a guy wearing all black heading towards me. He had just gotten out of the car where someone called back for him.

When the light from the lamp post above him hit his face, I was able to make out who it was and I found myself running away at my highest speed to get away from him as my feet carried me in the opposite direction. I didn't dare to look back as his footsteps echoed mine. I could sense him getting closer as they only got louder although I prayed for them to stop completely.

A hand had grabbed my arm and yanked me backwards, forcing me to come to a stop. I found myself being backed up to the wall as he brought himself closer to me.

"Why are you running away?"

"What do you want? Why did you follow me?"

"I know you're a target."
His lips curled up into the same toothed-smile which I detested.

"You sick bastard, I know it's you behind the letter."
My index finger was raised up infront of my face as I glared at him.

He grabbed the finger in his fist and pulled it towards him, his head leaning down at my now trembling self. He leaned his body weight onto his hand which he placed on the wall, right beside my head.
"You wish. The guy who chose you is so much worse than me, he loves going to the extreme and doesn't mind killing his targets."

"Who is it? What's his name?"

"I can't reveal his identity."

"You're him."
I didn't buy his bullshit.

"No, I'm not."

"Then, prove it. Why should I believe you?"

"Look, I'm just trying to protect you. I don't want you to be killed by him."
His gentle voice seemed sincere, but a huge part of me felt it to be full of deceit.

He sighed and took a step back, removing his hand from beside me. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a phone and dailed a number before bringing it to his ear. After a few rings, he brought it away from his ear and held it infront of me and pressed the speaker.

The caller ID said that it was an Unknown Number, so I felt disappointed that I couldn't memorize the number to later search on who it belonged to.
The call got connected and the guy infront of me spoke into the phone's microphone, "Hey."

"What do you want?" A deep voice replied groggily, as if it was disturbed from its peaceful slumber.

"I want to know about your target, the one you're sending letters to. What are you planning to do to him?"

"You called me this late at night to ask me this?"
The voice sighed.

"Just answer my question."

"I want him dead by the end of the month."

"Okay." He cut the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket. He looked back down at me with his piercing gaze and leaned towards me on the wall.
"Do you believe me now?"

I nodded my head, cowering below him.
"Why are you even helping me? Isn't he your friend?" My voice squeaked out, afraid of his intimidating presence.

"That's because.." He brushed his thumb gently over my lips, his death-like eyes still staring into mine.
"You've caught my interest."
His words turned my stomach into ice and my body refused to budge although I wanted to push him and run away.

"For now, just follow his demands. Come to me with the letters you receive from tomorrow and I'll try to help you from then."

He pushed himself off of the wall and turned away from me. His footsteps still pounding in my head as he walked away. He raised his hand to beside his shoulder and he waved the back of his hand.

"Mark Lee. That's my name, if you were wondering."

I watched as he walked towards the same black car as the one he got out from and turned to my heels to run back home.

The silent alley was too dark for my liking and the feeling of being followed had me paranoid. I had my eyes fixed on the path infront of me and made it back to the stairs I had left from to enter back into my room.

The knife and the letter were right where I had last left them, although I had hoped for them to disappear.

I picked up the knife and sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed. The torture of my indecision and my fear for the pain that was to come was overwhelming. I brought the knife against the skin right below my palm, and on the left end of my wrist, I carved out a small 'L'.

I watched as the blood flowed out, the letter carved out being completely hidden by the crimson red liquid as the stinging sensation entered my wrist. Shutting my eyes tightly, I felt tears escaping my eyes as I gripped onto my wrist.

Help me, Mark.

♢

Mark's POV

"Thanks. He believed it."
I sat back inside the driver's seat of the car where Jeno was waiting for me.

He shrugged before tossing the phone back to me.
"You owe me."

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