Being Unpredictable

oo3: Pulling on the Restraints

 

©RequiemSonata_2013

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[Shin Hae Hee]

 “H, stop. That’s enough for today.” A girl my age with long jet-black hair and expressionless face broke the silence that settled in for some minutes around an abandoned warehouse, completely ignoring the pathetic whimpers and grunts from several almost lifeless bodies scattered on the cold ground around me.

“Tsk. Fine.” I blew a few strands of my blonde hair from my face as I gave a cold stare that could freeze hell to the ground. I turned around to find another girl with shoulder length auburn hair grinning at me so wide I swear her face would split into two, handing me a clean towel. I accepted it and wiped my bloody hands clean of any filth. While two other girls follow me out of the building, leaving the first two to clean up the mess left.

Are you already wondering about what just happened? Well, let me summarize. I am Shin Hae Hee, the kkangpae world may know me as “Mad Hatter”, “MH” or simply “H”, along with the other four girls with me, we complete the group named PRISM and I am also their leader. We’re an underground gang that is feared by many but only few know of personally. And those people I beat up a few minutes ago were some bitch wannabes who had the guts to challenge me into a seven-one battle. Unfair, I know. But it’s a known fact in the kkangpae world that a challenger can pick the battle and it’s up to the other party if they accept it or not despite most challenges being absurd. The one invited into the challenge would be the one to set up the rules with no objection from both parties so long as it doesn’t break the kkangpae’s code. This one here is just an example, besides, they got on my nerves and dare to call my team some inappropriate words that would rather fit the challengers perfectly, and I think you now who clearly won, nae?

Too bad our identities as gangsters are strictly private. So, to put it simply; the five of us in PRISM are all closet gangsters. Outsiders wouldn’t recognize us until they see something specific from us that would be proof of our identity, like my tattoo of a black wing at the back of my left shoulder. The black wing which symbolizes to which gang you belong.

*Beep* *Beep*

I snapped out of my trance to look ahead and found the other four members of my team already sitting prettily inside my black convertible sports car and looking me curiously, maybe wondering why I haven’t gotten in yet. I shrugged and seated myself in the shotgun seat, nodded my head at the others as a signal to leave for home and the engine roared to life. We drove away unaware that there were unfamiliar eyes following our every move from afar.

~

I tossed my car keys to one of our family drivers as I walk up the patch to our –cough- manor’s (as my parents would like to call it) –cough- front door which was immediately opened by a maid when she saw me approaching. I looked back at the driver with my keys and he took a 60 degree bow before scurrying off to tend to my car. He knew better to treat my cars nicely so he wouldn’t face dire consequences of being fired for life.