Revenge | Jikook ff

Part 3: Kim V

Author's POV

The small frail boy shivered on the cold hard marble floor underneath him. He wrapped his thin weak arms around himself trying to warm himself up.

"E-Eomma...." He whimpered, warm fresh tears sliding down his hollow cheeks, his skin paler than the fading color of the basement floor he was currently on.

His clothes were ripped. His jet black hair was dirty and disheveled. His skin was decorated with red taints of whips and other sharp things, crimson red blood oozing out of his wounds.

He weakly tried to lift his hand, his fingers shaking, and half-ly opened his eyes, they were glistening with tears, towards the rusted metal door that was locked with heavy chains.

"K-Koo-" His breathing was increasing, so was his heartbeat when he heard the rustling of the metal chains before his arm went limp and fell with a thud on the floor, his heavy eyes managing to get a glimpse at who he called for before they closed temporarily.

______________________________________

"Come on! I ain't doing that!" A young male, probably in his early twenties, shouted. His deep voice resonating in his dad's study while the latter was seated calmly on his rock chair, casually sipping on his usual black coffee, a blue covered document was in his free hand as he slid it across his large table to his son.

The study room was large -almost like a dining room- His smooth large wooden table was in the middle, a few large shelves on each of his side with thick books. The room had a fireplace in a corner, lighting the whole room giving it a warm cosy feel.

Yet how cosy it seemed, it didn't hold the peaceful feeling to it. It was suffocating. It was almost dark. Almost. The light from the fireplace, as if fighting with the dark. The silence was deafening.

The young male didn't feel safe. He never wanted to step his feet in his father's study room. But his sudden demand to talk to his son forced him to. That room was suffocating for him, only adding to it, his father announced a rather not-so shocking news to him since he knew his father had a selfish motive to what he was asking -more like demanding- him to do.

The young male was a tall and broad shouldered guy. He had light brown hair contrasting with his brown caramel eyes. His eyes were small. He had faint eyebags under his eyes -seeming that he didn't sleep for a while-. He had a not-so big yet not-so small round nose. His lips were pink and plump with a mole hiding underneath.

In conclusion, he was a REALLY handsome man.

He had worn a casual large white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. Two, or even three earrings were hanging on his ears through his piercings. A long half heart pendant hung around his veiny neck.

"Jungkook. You are doing this. End of discussion." The said male's father stated in a stern tone, his gaze piercing through Jungkook's soul but the latter refused to avert his gaze from his father's deadly one.

"I'm not fucking scared of you Mr Jeon and I am not going to that interview." Jungkook slammed his fist on the wooden table, mentally hissing at the pain, and glared at Mr Jeon who didn't even flinch at the noise. The latter intertwined his fingers through his own and rested his chin on them, his stern glare still fixed on Jungkook.

"Great, and I'm not scared to do something to your beloved mother, Jungkook." Jungkook breathed heavily, as he clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles getting whiter by each passing second. He closed his eyes shut before releasing a frustated sigh as he stepped back, still glaring at Mr Jeon, his fists still clenched shut.