relationship: fiancés
warnings: blood, gore, torture, gangs
word count: 1.6k
published: 05.04.20
a muffled scream echoed down a dark hallway, the sound not daring to break through to the outside world. it was easy to guess that the scream was a scream of pain, and it would be safe to assume so.
a man grunted as he twisted his hand, his grip shifting with the knife that was embedded in his victim's thigh. a sickening laugh left his mouth at the boy's cries, taking his time before turning away to grab a camera.
"smile," he sang out, the flash of the camera breaking through the whimpers.
"ah, here we go. guess where this picture is going," he taunted, demanding a response from the injured boy. when the boy didn't answer, he grabbed him by his bruised jaw and squeezed, forcing his head up. "answer!"
"jongho. it's going to jongho," the younger had cried out, feeling his jaw crack under the pressure. he couldn't bear the pain in his thigh, not forgetting the knife that was still residing in it.
he flinched as the perpetrator slapped his cheek a few times, letting out noises of approval before he walked off. y/n assumed he was going to print out the photos he'd taken over the last few days, at least he thought it'd been a few days, and send them to jongho and the rest of ateez.
y/n was in this position solely because the man, hweseuk, wanted to hurt the one thing ateez cared about. ateez was a powerful gang, in which y/n's fiancé, jongho, was the youngest member.
y/n had been kidnapped while he was unlocking the door to his house, he'd been stalked for months; this abduction was carefully premeditated.
hweseuk took y/n 3 weeks prior, using the younger's body and mental capacity to his advantage. he would assault the younger and then take a picture when he was at his lowest then send the images to ateez, knowing they couldn't do a thing. they didn't know who'd taken him, or he thought.
the younger's hands were tied above his head, his body hanging and limp. his head sagged between his shoulders, not having the strength to keep it up. sweat dripped off his face, blood cluttered in his eyelashes and in the crevices of his features, drool clung to his lips and chin, drooping down but desperate to stay attached to his skin; he looked pitiful.
he didn't know what he looked like and he didn't want to. he knew he looked horrible, but for him to continue to have hope of being saved, he couldn't face himself; not yet.
he cried out when his body clashed to the floor, his limbs not coordinated when trying to catch himself. and instead landing on the knife, pushing it further into his skin. his eyes trailed up, making eye contact with hweseuk. he blinked, letting his eyes close for a second due to exhaustion and drowsiness.
he briefly heard the sound of the latched door opening before a flood of men came in. he knew what was next. he would be violated, touched in ways he didn't want to; he'd be hurt.
his head lolled to the side, body giving out. but the last words he heard made him want to cry. "it's the last time. make it memorable, boys."
-
all throughout the halls, you could only hear the grunts and slapping skin echoing, never the sobbing of the unconscious boy, wishing for someone to save him.
-
y/n sat balled up in a corner of whatever room he was in. he couldn't help but lose his hope, especially after what he'd heard before he passed out. his whole body ached, bruises littered his skin, and they all cluttered toward his hips. he was cold, naked, and afraid. what else could he be in this situation?
his breath slowed, his thoughts taking over. you won't see them again. let them know you love them.
his hand slowly reached for the knife in his thigh, only breaking out of his trance at the numbing pain he felt when he pulled it out. the knife clattered against the floor as blood gushed out of his wound, but he had to hurry. he knew hweseuk was going to kill him. he'd told him when he was first beaten.
