Mafia » BANGTAN

05

The sound of throaty words spurted me into a sprint, and with a quick turn of the head, I could see that both characters were close upon me already. With quick wit, I remember Mina's address from the store. It was left and forward through the alleyway until it took Bella to her block. So I went the complete opposite, swerving right, aware of the cash that sat on top my head. Anyone would want me dead. I never realised how much people wanted me dead till tonight. The pistol was icy against my grasp, though made my hands clammy, and shaky. I held it as though it was my last salvation, because it was. It was either die or kill, and I knew that i could not just let myself die to the people that wanted me dead, no, I would kill them before they had the chance to see their goals unlocked and the money that is gained from my demise. 

The footsteps were echoing, and close, which meant the men were close, too. I turned another corner, and with a quick spin of my heels, pointed the pistol towards one of the shadows, quick and moving closer and closer. The first missed, though skimmed the right shadows shoulder, causing them both to hault for a single second before they were back on my tail. Though I was smart enough, though despite the horror of death, to keep facing it and shoot another shot. The second hit the right shoulder. The body fell just as quickly with a sickening echo, though in seconds the other body appeared to have a gun and the was aimed at me. Their hands shook, and I was able to tell somehow, even in the dark, how bad they shook.

Bullets began to fly, wildly and dangerously. I had realised that maybe it was not the Bangtang gang of Daegu because, on the night of our meeting, they made sure not to hit me at all, and had aimed their bullets specifically towards my brother, Lay, and Baekyun. They rather prefered gas to knock me out, which surprised me. 

Which means they didn't want me dead then.

So why would they want me dead now?

Why would you let your enemy live?

With enough adrenaline, I rolled behind a bin. Bullets cut through my jacket, causing tens of holes in my jacket to show my struggle of escape. The bullets caused a loud ricochet across the alleyways emptied pathways, and they helped me muffle my cries. With a shaming breath, I turned to see the character above their partner, their gun defensive in their hands, aimed at me.

"Come with us, or we kill you."

"You won't kill me if you need me,"

I crawled from my spot inching back, quiet, though breath loud, just as my heart hammered. I stood face to face with the, inching back, though despite my want to escape, I held on, and they did too. It hurt me to know how loud I was through the silence of night. My eyes brimming with tears from the cold, the chills gnawing at my bared skin, causing my skin to redden and my teeth to chatter.

The character framed by the light of the moon was silent, and in seconds there was an agonising pain in my leg, shaking me, convulsing me onto the floor, the pain was so bad it was blinding, and I grasped my thigh as heat wept from the gun wound. Blood began too ooze out, and drip against the ground in a puddle, and smudge against my fingers.

I shook myself enough that my elbows held my upper body up, enough to aim my bullets wildly towards the members hidden within the dark. It seemed I hadn't hit anything, but i was aware of this when my gun clicked silently without emitting anything, and the voice aroused from across the alley way.

"We son't want to hurt you-"

"You don't want to hurt me?" I cried out, sarcasm oozing through my parching, heaving lips, teeth clenching the pain away, hands grasping, deathly strong against my wound. Holding the wound so tightly caused spurts of blood to ooze through my hands and across the alleyways, priory cleaned ground. The pain so excruciating I began to see shimmering stares in my vision rather then having to look up to the night sky to see them.

"Just shut up!" The person cried, aiming their loaded gun at my face as they abandoned their partner who was already beginning to stumble up from their injury. "Are you Park Chanyeol's sister? King Parks daughter?"

With clenched teeth, the fury ate me from the inside out. Was I some defenceless woman without a name? No, I was not, I was a woman, I am a woman, a powerful woman, and though despite being on the floor, thoroughly in pain, I could wipe anyone out whom got in my way to power and status within Korea's underworld of crime. 

So FUCK YOU.

I spat blood from my mouth, hitting his shining, luxurious shoes and turning them to shit. I smiled a gritted, sarcastic smile up at their shadow. My teeth inked in red, my body still below, but my mind still intact. 

"I have a name, you fucker,"

The person inched down as a car parked by the end of the alleyway, the lights of the car shining a light on us. Stinging my eyes, though I did not flinch as I smirked up, all bloodied at the person above me, holding a gun to his forehead. I had never seen this person before, but there was no question who he was apart of.

He had a bunny, sadistic smile, eyes clenched thin and wickedly. His pitch black hair hung below his eyes, but high enough to see them from below, enough it made him scarier, less sane in a sense. He seemed young, younger than me, and that scared me too.

"You have a name?" He cued. "No, You're just a plaything. Playthings don't deserve names," His voice was sickly sweet as figures began to trial from the car, some silently passing to grab the body that was afar, panting and stumbling up from his hit.

Abruptly, the gun was swung against my cheek, causing a ripple of pain to form across my face, but I held on, not allowing myself to drown into the darkness of unconsciousness. I felt the blood trickle, my eyes stinging and hooded as another figure appeared above, feet tapping idly against the ground my head rested on.

A smoke slipped from their mouth, falling to their side as they breathed a breath of smoke down to my face, a shadow of a smile on their dimmed faces. I was struggling to see, but I knew the voice, the same throaty, quiet voice that belonged to the mint haired, tattoo covered gangster.

"She is a pretty one,"

"Shut the fuck up-" I cried through bloody, clenched teeth.

The other scoffed, and through the haze of darkness, I watched Suga, the mint haired gangster, dip down, lip strained into a smirk that screamed sarcasm and demise all at once. His lengthening hair began to grow out, black strands replacing the mint, the colour around his eyes dim and black.

"She's feisty,"

"definitely," The other replied, a voice riper and softer compared to the throatiness and cold demeanour of his partner. "I struggled getting her, she's a good shot."

"What do you expect, she's the mafia's daughter?"

"I expected some lousy girl who didn't know how to run, and didn't know how to fight. Not a fully qualified gangster with a fully loaded handgun and a pair of fast fucking legs,"

The mint haired figure shrugged. I knew it was Suga, his voice was too distinct. It was etched into her head, and his figure wouldn't leave her even when her vision began to dim. I couldn't hear anything, not even when he peered down at me, lips moving, and it hurt so much my body felt benumbed, enough that as I blinked, I could see nothing, and I felt floating rather then alive.