Destined {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Heartless {Preview}

It had always been warm, here, even in the dead of winter; perhaps it was the heat of the forges bouncing off the rusted scrap metal that littered the ground around him, or perhaps it was the heat of bodies, growing and multiplying despite the lack of space. Perhaps he was even lucky, to be stuck in this damned cage; nobody else was in this little space of his.

He observed the others walk about, lugging things over their shoulders, shirts clinging to their muscular bodies with the sweat of over-exertion, soot staining their faces, their hands, feet dragging along the ground. Some of them belonged here, he thought, eyeing the criminals, the murderers and the rapists – as few as there were. The others... the others were young, too young to have done much wrong.

Unfortunately, the vast majority of the time it did not take much to be thrown in this hell hole.

As he gazed upon the wall that divided his side of the community from their side, a crackle of resentment coursed through him. Did they know how horrible it was to live on this side, in the dirt and mud and heat? They didn't; he knew it for a fact.

He'd once lived on their side of the wall – a long, long time ago.

The memories were bittersweet, the taste of times long since passed, replaced instead with the burning hatred that plagued his tongue as he stared at all those who dared walk by him. They didn't understand how truly awful it was, to be here – even if they lived on his side of the wall. They didn't know how deeply the atrocities went.

He knew. He knew all too well.

Through half-lidded eyes, disinterested eyes, he finally turned to look at the three men who'd stopped outside of his cell. Two of them were useless, mindless goons ready to subdue him should he act out; didn't they know by now that he wouldn't? They'd been over this more than enough times.

"Come, now. We have more experiments to conduct." The man who spoke – the horrible, vile man – dared smile at him. The caged man did not return his pleasantries; his eyes flitted away after his moment of observation. The man was the same as he always had been – too friendly a smile, one ready to hide the wickedness of his mind, hair slicked back in a professional manner, posture open – to inspire trust, he said.

Little did anyone know that this man was the incarnation of evil, a monster of their own making. He did not answer, nor did he voice his thoughts aloud, though he stood, crossing the short length with slow, deliberate steps. The cell door was unlocked and opened.

Han Jisung stepped out of his cage.

A/N: Seeing as this fic is slowly coming to an end, I thought it might be a good idea to start thinking about my next work, and I settled on this one here (for those of you who've been with me since Alone's era, you know exactly what this is -- but this time, it's rewritten and, dare I say, much better).

 So... yay or nay? Let me know!

Lots of love,

~Emilie