Hell Hole

Chapter Five.

Kim Woojin's eyes opened.

It had been the first time in a day, and He wished they hadn't.

He glanced around, the room dark and hazy. He struggled to move his arms, yet He couldn't budge a muscle.

His arms and legs are strapped down to a chair, green duct tape restraining him into solitude.

A bloody gag pressed far into his mouth, choking him as He tried to breathe, blood seeping down his lips and dribbling from his chin.

"You're finally awake, Woojin?"

Chris slammed down a baton-shaped weapon onto his shoulder, a sinister smirk marking his lips as he strode closer to the male. He admired the bruises and blood that decorated his skin, tilting his head to the side, "Do you want me to call you Detective Kim, still? I'd much rather drop that honorific."

Woojin yelled out, it muffled due to the gag, rocking his chair back and forth instead to create some noise.

"Oh, shut up already." Chris hissed, bashing the side of Woojin's head in; He paused for a moment before he kicked the chair to the ground, so the male was looking up at the ceiling, "I thought about sparing you for a second, Oh well..." He spat on his cheek, making his way towards a table at the furthermost side of the room.

He stopped at a table and solely took his time observing, looking over his options.

His fingers wrapped around the grip of a bowie knife, twirling it around his fingers in skillful little flicks.

"I've wanted to kill you since you started working on our case.." He pressed the tip of his finger to the dull side of the blade, caressing the curved ridges, "But, I hadn't known you would burst into this studio without a warrant, giving me a reason to finally trap you here."

He accidentally sliced the pad of his thumb open, licking it with the tip of his tongue, "I wish I could hear you right now." He took a step closer, one word per movement, "But I have a lovely Boy downstairs that I wouldn't want to disturb; I don't want him to end up like you.." He pressed the tip of the blade to the male's cheek, digging in as He stooped over his body, "He'll be ending up like me. Wouldn't you like that?"

Chris trudged the knife downwards, curling it into his bruised neck until the skin broke, droplets of crimson blood pouring from the fresh wound, "Ever since you started working on your case, I haven't been able to sleep. I won't be caught by imbeciles." And He threw the knife aside and punched him right in the nose, making him hazy as He's already suffering from the loss of blood.

He chuckled, licking over his knuckle. The taste stained his tongue, the color staining as well, leaving it blood-red, an artificial color.

The man left the room only to turn into another one, calling everyone's phone and setting his own on the counter, waiting until everyone finally Came and they could discuss specific topics.

Woojin's eyes darted around the room, trying to find something that would help him; Until they landed on the blade that the man had been holding before.

His arms weren't secure; he had a lot of room to move. In fact, He could approximately reach it.

He bit on his tongue as He tried to lean toward it, his fingertips just brushing against the handle, letting out a faint groan. He rocked back and forth in his chair, scraping it against the ground as He did so, scooching closer, And closer.

Until He finally grasped it, twirling his hand around and pressing the blade against the tape around his hands, working up and down against the ridges, the green bands snapping.

He didn't know how loud it was, though. Ruckus burst from the room He was in, surely enough to attract one of his captors.

The duct tape split apart, his hands finally free, a slick layer of sweat garnishing them. He leaned down toward the bottom of the chair, slicing at the rope and duct tape that caressed his legs and feet, cutting himself free.

Woojin stumbled to his feet and pulled the gag from his mouth with a wretch, glancing around before He started his way towards the work table, his phone lit up and ontop of it, his fingers curling around it, typing in his passcode and dialing a number.

It rang and rang.

They finally pick up.

"Ssan district Police station; what might be your problem?"

"Someone's-" Woojin's lips wobbled, keeping his voice down, "Someone is keeping me hostage- This-" He coughed, wiping his lips with his sleeve, "This is Kim Woojin."

"I'm tracking down your location Sir, Stay on the line- I thought you were gone, are you stable?"

Woojin sighed in relief, making his way towards the door that stood on the other side of the room, "I was working the Ssan Avenue case near where your station is. People are going missing left and right, and it all leads down to this one studio-"

Creak.

"Sir, I can't track your phone? Tell us where you are- Do you have any Idea-"

The sound of a bouncy ball ricocheted off of the walls; The Phone slipped from Woojin's hand and falling onto the concrete ground upon hearing it.

"Sir! Woojin, what studio?"

Bounce.

Bounce.

There was a brief silence.

Until Lee Minho leaned sideways in a flash, peeking over at the male from the brink of the wall, "Hello, Woojin."

The said male froze in place; his eyes stuck on the other which had just appeared.

"Not going to say a simple Hello back?" Minho asked, standing back up straight, walking underneath the frame of the door, leaning against it, "A Shame."

Woojin couldn't assess the situation until Minho pulled on a string from the bouncy ball with his teeth, throwing it at the Detective, it ticking down as it stuck to his ratted shirt.

"Bye. Bye."

The ball went off, apparently a small, weakly engineered bomb in disguise, blood splattering in all different directions, Minho joyfully getting covered in it, wiping off his eyes with balled-up fists. "Ah! That was Fun."

He hummed joyfully, stomping on the male's phone, crushing it underneath his foot, "Oopsie?" He let out a loud laugh and stomps onto it until shards of glass stuck to his shoe.

Minho glanced down at the smudge that was left on the ground, raising a hand of his, and wiggling his fingers at it. He smiles, his lips curling.

"I thought I told you? I was going to be killing him..."

Minho jumped, Chris's fingers wrapped around his throat, promptly tensing, "I'm sorry, Sir," He murmured, "I was just testing out the bomb Changbin engineered."

"I noticed," Chris scowled, glancing around the room, "clean everything before coming into the East room. I don't want this place to have a foul stench because of you."

Minho watched as the man turned, walking out of the door.

"Oh, And," Chris suddenly quipped, "Woojin probably called the police department; we'll be working on them later. I recently learned a male by the name of Felix has been looking through Woojin's documents- I know this from an inside eye... And well." He snickered, cracking his knuckles, "He'll take the same path as Woojin, I suppose."

He left with a slam of the door, abandoning Minho inside the bloody room.