Sexual assault shit ahead but I don't write the actual thing because reasons.
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When I finally come to, I don't open my eyes. It feels like I've just been woken up from a very deep sleep by an alarm clock. Except instead of an alarm clock, it's a pounding. It comes from my head, my back, my heart, and my lower legs. it's all in the same rhythm, and all with their own unique characteristics. The pounding coming from the back of my head and back is the deepest, and aches, instead of being a sharp pain. The Pounding of my heart is the loudest, filling my ears with a THUMP. THUMP. THUMP, while simultaneously filling my stomach up with a large pool of dread, and fear for what was awaiting me. The sharpest pounding, however, is my lower legs. It's more of a scream than a pound, a shriek that lets me know there is absolutely no way in hell I could possibly move them even a tiny bit because then it will hurt more than it already does.The second thing I notice is my position. I'm lying straight on my back, on a flat, cold, hard surface, causing me to shiver. My legs are spread straight out, perpendicular to my waist, as even though it's an extremely uncomfortable position, I don't dare move then, terrified that they'll hurt even more. I'm lying on my left cheek, my hair caught under by back and shoulder. My arms are raised over my head, pulled straight and I can feel tight metal cuffs on wrists, prohibiting them from moving too far as well. They aren't in pain though, so I bend my elbows, to try and get some relief. But to my disappointment/fear, they can't move more than a centimeter, because there is a short chain connecting my wrists, that's wrapped around a large, concrete pole.
When I finally work up the courage to open my eyes, I'm greeted by my bare arm. Not surprising, I was wearing a t-shirt. But wait, my shoulder is bare too. I quickly shut my eyes, and As much as my entire body hollers not too, I slightly squirm around, trying to feel for any signs of my clothes. Shit! All I can feel is a pair of panties, and they don't feel like any pair I've ever worn. I gingerly open my eyes and lift my head to look straight ahead, perhaps I'll be able to see what, if anything, I'm wearing.
I'm greeted with a starting and horrifying realization, in the form of certain parts of my anatomy that I've never thought to look at without a bra. They seem to have a dull light surrounding them, causing me to squint. Not that I want to look at them anyway.
"Good morning." Sang-woo's voice echoes, surprisingly calm as if this is just a normal, everyday occurrence for him.
"Um, can I ask you something?" I badger, twisting my head so I could see a blurry Sangwoo. From what I can tell, he also isn't wearing a shirt, but he has the privilege of pants. He's smiling, a more eerie, evil smile than before.
"What would you like to know?" He casualty accepted, shrugging as if absolutely nothing was out of place.
"WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!" I scream, His seeming serenity making it impossible to stay calm. "ALSO WHILE WE'RE ON THE SUBJECT, WHY THE HELL AM I CHAINED TO A POLE? WHY DO MY LEGS HURT?!"
"Calm down." He commanded, his smile disappearing, but keeping the same tone of voice.
"I'll calm down WHEN I KNOW WHAT THE FUCK IT GOING ON!" I shout, not in the mood for any of this bullshit.
"You're my guest." He announced, his every smile slightly returning, as I feel his gaze on my revealed body. I want to scrunch up, like a turtle, and get his eyes off my chest.
"If I'm your guest, then why the hell are my clothes gone?!" I interrogate.
"You know what I hate?" He countered while walking towards me. "I hate pointless chatter. It gets absolutely nothing done."
YOU ARE READING
Good Girl
Fanfiction18 year old Yang Hye-Jin is the younger sister of Yang Suengbae. She loves helping out in the police station, and wants to be an officer herself, but after the incident with Sungbae and Sangwoo at the end of season 2, she decideds to bring Sangwoo c...