Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I reacted before he finished speaking, spinning on my heel and running into the stall I had just exited. The door slammed shut just as he threw the knife. The throw was powerful enough that the blade penetrated it, giving me a taste of who I was going against.
"Oh, you can only hide for so long," Minho spoke, a hint of mischievousness in his otherwise leisurely voice. "You'll have to come out sometime...and neither of us are going anywhere anytime soon."
I steadied myself, leaning against the door jamb and flattening my body against the side. Already my heartbeat had spiked—now that I was out of any immediate harm's way, desperation was beginning to spread through me like dye in water as I thought about what I was going to do next.
There was no real way of escape, not without harm. His knife-throwing abilities were far from imperfect, the knife tip protruding from the cracked wood in front of me revealing his deadly accuracy on the side.
He was your friend, a voice whispered at the back of my head. I ignored it, though with difficulty, forcing myself to focus on the problem at hand. This was not the first time I had been betrayed by a 'friend', but the last time had been so long ago that I had grown weak against the possibility. It still felt the same, I realized. Wanting to protect not just yourself but also the one who was trying to hurt you in the first place.
Was, I thought. Not 'is'. Not 'will be'.
"They'll be especially happy with me when I bring back your head." His voice was getting closer now, as was the sound of his soles squeaking against the tiled floor. "If you're willing to play nice, I'll settle for submission. All you have to do is come with me, and maybe he'll let you live."
I almost scoffed at that. Even if he was being honest about letting me live himself, I was absolutely sure that the leader of the Lee clan—as it was now obvious which side he was on—had no interest in letting me escape unharmed.
Instead, I stayed silent, counting on the moment he would be close enough to the stall for me to even try playing offensive.
"Seems like you're not interested in being a good dog, though," Minho said finally, and I bit my tongue, resting my hand on the door's lock. He sounded very close, only a couple of feet away. I pressed closer to the side, trying to find cold logic in my instincts, but fear was far too powerful. "But that's fine by me. It's always more fun cutting up living specimens."
Don't respond.
The cruelty of his words should have ricocheted off me; I had heard far worse threats during my life, but there was something unexpected in them when they came from his mouth. A person I had probably never expected to be trying to murder me. I was getting weak from the lack of exposure, as it had been a long few years since I was brutally attacked like this.
