K-pop fans and the world at large are thrown into turmoil when the rising global sensation Bangtan Sonyeondan, better known as BTS, are kidnapped in the dead of night. As the world reels in confusion, the young men of BTS find themselves living a ni...
Carl was doing his best to staunch the blood flowing down his face as Smith dragged the prancing little diva/demon down the hallway. He had been so fucking close to tasting heaven and that little shit had ruined everything.
"Throw him in the room where you and Davis fucked his little friend," he growled, grabbing up a rag and putting it to his bleeding cheek.
Once Smith had tossed Taehyung into the room, Carl ordered the others to close the door and wait outside.
"This little piece of shit and I are going to have a nice long talk," he had said with a menacing tone.
Taehyung had barely regained his bearings after being thrown to the hard ground when he was picked up and tossed into the wall. Head ringing and dazed, he could not avoid the fist that hit his jaw like a ton of bricks. He couldn't even make a sound as a hand wrapped itself in his hair and banged his head not once or even twice, but three times against the wall.
In danger of losing consciousness, Taehyung wrapped his arms around his head in an effort to protect himself, but that just left the rest of his body open. Carl made the most of it by kicking the downed boy several times in the stomach and then back when Taehyung curled in on himself.
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Taehyung had no idea how long the beating went on. There was no part of his body that this monster had not hit, punched, kicked or stomped. He was sure that some toes and fingers were broken, and his vision kept fading in and out in shades of gray and black. He needed to throw up but fought it, for fear of what else might come out of his mouth; blood, teeth or even a piece of his tongue from where he had chomped down after the first hit.
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Taehyung moaned in agony as he was lifted by his throat and slammed against the wall again, but there wasn't another fist to the face as he had wearily anticipated. When he opened blurry eyes, he was looking into the face of a man, not an expressionless mask.
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