short range || k.th x j.jk

IX

NAMJOON'S POV

I let out a ragged breath as I skidded backwards, my dress shoes leaving scuff marks along the concrete floor from the force. I had no time to catch my breath before I started to run around again, dodging the rain of bullets Jin unleashed onto me.

I hold in a curse as one of his bullets graze my shoulder, just nicking my honey-kissed skin. The clicking sound I hear make me stop running, seeing him quickly de-clip his ammo before reaching around a small pouch on tied to the side of his slacks.

Taking this as my only chance to close the distance, I bolted towards him, not heeding my body's warning of exhaustion creeping over. Brandishing my knife from within my thigh holster, I spin it till the blade is lines up with my wrist.

AUTHOR'S POV

The sniper connects the ammo onto his sniper before looking up, his eyes widening as he hadn't sensed Namjoon running at full speed towards him. The FBI leader swung his knife, aiming for an undercut. Reacting quickly, Jin swung down his sniper, connecting metal against metal.

This continued until both of them let out ragged, uneven breathes.

"Shit.." Namjoon breathes out. No matter what tactic he pulled out, the mafioso would be able to parallel it. Running back in, the agent decided to pull out an underhanded move, faking a swipe to the left. Jin fell for it, and went to dodge it, but Namjoon swung right, cutting him along his right shoulder, matching the cut he had on his.

Watching each other's moves, meeting slash for slash, they lost interest in the outer world, becoming grossly involved in their violent dance with each other.

Jin had brandished his own small pocket knife, but was less skilled with it than the agent. Barely meeting slash for slash, he was slow to dodge the swing, nearly getting cut once more before an explosion rocked the warehouse.

The run-down building shook with the force, and the dull grey walls lit up in shades of red and orange. Both dropped down to the cold ground as pieces of debris crashed around them.

Dusting himself off, Namjoon's eyes slowly began to widen as he saw blood staining the rubble. Just as he was about to cry out to ask if the younger agent was alright, a loud gunshot echoed in the distance.

Tears of frustration started to stream from the leader's eyes as he was unsure who was on the opposite end of the bullet; Suga & Hoseok, or Jimin.

A pained groan draws his eyesight to look behind him, seeing the sniper's leg pinned underneath some fallen debris, blood freely flowing from his temple. He however, was shocked at the tears that streamed down his porcelain face.

Cautiously, Namjoon approached the mafioso, his finger hovering over the trigger of his gun, his knife thrown from his hand during the explosion. Reaching the sniper, he less than gracefully swatting down beside him.

"Kill me..." Jin wept, no longer struggling to remove his foot from the rubble. He covered his face with his adorably crooked fingers and sobbed freely.

"I-I never wanted this" He let out a loud heave, leaving Namjoon's heart to clench in sadness. Ever since he became the leader of the FBI, it was as though all feelings and emotions had abandoned him, so what made this mafioso change his heart?

"I w-was taken at such a young age, t-trafficked around, used, I never w-wanted this!" He cried out, "J-just kill me!"

Just as Namjoon was about to reach out his hand to cradle the crying sniper's face, a cold voice sounded.

"Then die."

The gunshot sounded, being fired off from Yoongi's gun. Namjoon had no time to do anything, as he watched Jin's eyes slowly widen in pain, before slowly bringing his hand up to the hole in his heart, blood quickly seeping out of it.

He coughed, blood painting his plump pink lips, before his eyes glazed over.

Rage flooded Namjoon's system. Fueled by it, he stood back up properly, before repeatedly shooting off his gun, not taking time to aim properly. Suga effortlessly dodged his messy shots, firing back his own.

They kept firing off rounds until Namjoon's made a clicking sound, indicating it's empty.

"Shit" He swears, throwing it onto the ground. He turns his head to see where his knife had landed when he dropped it in the explosion, but a tight grip circled around his throat, robbing him of his breath. Yoongi's grip tightened, and his feet just barely graced the floor.

Pain. He couldn't tell what hurt more at this point. The death grip he held on his throat, or the knife protruding from his stomach.

Swear words flooded Namjoon's thoughts, but no were able to escape his mouth. His dark eyes slowly started to turn grey in colour, gradually rolling into the back of his head. Drool rolled down his chin.

A loud sound had made Yoongi drop his hold on Namjoon, the latter crumpling in on himself. The mafioso had a shocked face, his hand slowing reaching up to the growing red stain of his white shirt. He let out a horrendous choking, sounding more like a gag before dropping to his knees, before ungracefully face planting into the cement, no longer moving. His eyes were wide, no soul left in them, but a small smile had graced his face.

Namjoon's eyes had slowly started to droop, but before all went hazy, he saw Jin looking through his scope, before slowing dropping it. He gave a kind smile towards the agent before falling flat onto his back, forever closing his eyes.

The agent tried to react him, slowly dragging his body across the grey floor, painting it red. The darkness was slowly starting to cloud over his eyes, and his movement slowed. Reaching his hand out weakly, he tried to touch Jin, but he just fell short.

He could feel his heartbeat slowing down, the blood rushing in his ears calming. He let out a humorless laugh, as his eyes slowly closed, embracing the white light.

"I leave it to you,, Jeongguk..."

A/N: Short Range is slowly coming to an end, thank you for sticking with it!  : ) ).