Hell Hole

Chapter Thirty-One.

Chris paged through a book, licking over his lips as he recited the words, "As the Male's breaths became shallow, He realized He couldn't move due to the restraints that settled on his wrists."

He let out a sigh, thrumming his fingers against the spine of the book, "However, He didn't find that strange." He murmured, "He even felt unnatural..." He flipped the page, "As if He could control himself either way." He glanced up at Hyunjin, "He felt relatively at ease." He set the book down on the counter that separated them, "Do you believe Jeongin feels like this right now? At ease?"

Hyunjin couldn't respond. His limbs had been restrained to the chair, tape covering his lips. He let out a muffled cry as Jisung shuffled inside the foul room, letting his head fall into his lap.

"Knock, knock." Jisung babbled breathlessly, hovering over Hyunjin's strengthless body, "Are you reading him the same book as always?" Once Chris nodded, he continued, "I cleaned Jeongin's room. But what if He doesn't come back as you expect?"

Chris examined his mind, brushing his hands down his pant leg to smooth the wrinkles, "He'll be back soon. Don't worry." He stared as Jisung shifted on his legs.

"What if he isn't?" Jisung prodded, "What should we do?"

Chris's eyes narrowed into a glare, "I'm making him a present..." He scowled, "He will come to get it once it's ready." He bit down onto the tip of his tongue, getting up to his feet, "You can finish this."

"Really?" Jisung asked. He was utterly astounded due to the fact that he never has him do the work.

"Yes. I need..." Chris went up to his feet, his shoes decorating the cement with crimson blood, "To go somewhere." He conversed while He cleaned them off on a mat.

Jisung doubtfully lifted an eyebrow, "Where?"

Chris stretched into a container, slipping gloves on with sorrowful snaps, "Before we leave," He tore it in half, relinquishing it to the floor, "We need to get rid of the rancid things."

"Yes, we do," Jisung responded well, crouching beside Hyunjin and setting his hand on his mid-thigh. "I'm gonna hurt you a little bit, Sweetheart." He chuckled, lifting his chin as He attempted to shift away, "Try to withstand a little."

Chris ripped open a bag, seizing a blade from it. He slipped it into his pocket. He studied the two males for several seconds, listening to them.

Hyunjin attempted to mumble something, and Jisung ripped off the duck-tape, "I can't hear you. Repeat it." Hyunjin was crying by the time Jisung stroked his cheek tenderly, an act He always put on for his victims, "What did you say?"

Hyunjin trembled in his seat, swaying his head back and forth, "Don't... Don't kill me," He begged with all of his strength, "Please don't kill me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Poor little Hyunjin," Jisung taunted, slapping the tape back over his mouth, "How could Chris do this to you?"

Chris made his way out of the room, Hyunjin frantically trying to slip out of the restraints.

Jisung heightened his voice once again after a minute, "You want to escape, don't you?" Hyunjin had nodded, "You do?"

Hyunjin's eyes widened at his following words.

"Then do it. Let's play a game." Jisung sneered, untying his wrists, "If you win, I'll let you go." He stated plainly, anticipating as Hyunjin experimentally etched off the tape.

He sucked in a breath as soon as it came off, twisting his bruised wrists around. Pops sounded from his sore joints, covered in bandages. "What game?" He questioned gruffly, clicking his jaw back into place.