How Did I End Up Here (BTS)

We Are... Not So Bulletproof

Chapter Eight

*Mr Kim's POV*

Today was the day. Today I would become rich, today I would become powerful.

And it would be so fun.

Get ready wench, count the seconds you have left. You don't have many. I made my way up the stairs, and stopped at her door. I opened the door, only to see her alseep against the window. Typical, I give her a bed, and she decided to sleep on the floor. How ungreatful. I made my way quietly to her, and examined her carefully. She was nothing. I slapped her face, and she woke up, startled.

Taking one glace at me, her eyes widened in fear. Good. Fear me, just like everyone else will.

*Lizzie's POV*

I was woken up by a slap to the face. It was daytime, no one usually comes in during daytime.

Now I'm worried.

He looked older, grey hair, lines on his face. Then I realised who it was. The older man from the warehouse the night I was taken.

How could I forget. I had memorized every face, I mean, how could I forget the faces that beat me everynight. And the faces that cared for me...

No. He didn't care. He proved that.

He smiled, before pulling me up. Pulling me toward the door, his grip tight around my wrist. It was hard to walk, my legs stumbled and got tangled as I walked. I mean, I had hardly walked in the past... however long I had been here.

The old man pulled me out of the room.

This was it. I was either going to die, or be set free. Probably not the latter, but I have to hope. We went down the stairs, leaving my weapon behind. Dammit.

We went down one set, but we were only on the second floor it seemed. So I was locked in the attic all this time. He pulled me into another room.

A room with a chair, and straps. It also had a fire burning inside a barrel. I saw a set of surgical instruments on a table.

Well, I was going to die. But I wasn't going to die without a fight.

"Sit," he said.

"No." I said. I've had enough of this crap. Now, I my sass is returning. Now my inner bitch is coming out.

"Sit. Down. Now." He eyed me.

"Why should I? I mean, you've kept me for here for god knows how long, and I don't even know fucking why!" I shouted. "I haven't even seen you before, I haven't done anything wrong in my life, ever," I continued. He pulled my hair and forced me to sit down, strapping me in.

"You'll regret talking back," he whispered in my ear. I wasn't even scared anymore. Just really, really pissed off.

I saw men standing in the door way, watching.

"You lot can suck a fart out my ass as well," I spat. I knew all of them, they were the ones who beat me. I would show them before I died.

"Come, my sons. Watch. This will be a show you wouldn't want to miss." He smiled. They filed in and leaned against the back wall. Sungjoo was there. I just ignored him, he looked down.

"Now, what shall I do with you first," he said, scratching his chin, looking over the surgical things. He picked up a small knife. "This will do."

Walking over to me, he placed the knife on my forearm, before slicing my arm like a knife through butter. I didn't scream. I stifled everything. I kept my face expressionless. Blood leaked from my arm, it throbbed.