RPM || Yoo Taeyang (Coming Soon)

0.1 \\ Escape

7th JULY 2017

The young boy panted heavily as he navigated through the dark hallways of the ship he was aboard. NCT had tricked them. They never wanted to discuss coalition—their only motive had been to kill.

Now he was the only one of the Blue Dragons left alive. Their leader Taeyong had confessed that they'd already attacked their home base and eliminated every single one of them. Before the rest of his team could even comprehend the situation, they'd been fired at mercilessly—it was ten to six, they could have never beat them.
He had been the only one to notice NCT cocking their guns in the last second, but it had been too late to alert his teammates—all he could do was dive behind a chair and escape the room amidst the crossfire.

Now he was running—it was only a mater of time before NCT would realize that they'd left one alive, so he had to make haste.

Making another right, he found himself at a dead end. Cursing, he turned around to retrace his steps, but instead found himself face to face with an NCT member.

The red-haired man in front of him smirked, aiming his sub machine gun at the young boy.
"I knew we were missing someone. Your teammates were handsome and skilled, some of the best. A shame that they had to die. But NCT always does what it needs to do."

"Why?" the boy croaked. "Why did you kill them? We didn't do anything wrong to you guys. You said we would all work together, and you've stabbed us in the back!" Tears streamed down the boy's cheeks, choked sobs leaving his mouth.

The man scoffed at the 17 year old boy, gun still aimed at him.

Confusion and resentment etched on his face, the boy stared back at the man.

"How naïve. Did you really think we could all work together? There can only be one at the top of the pyramid, and we've just defended our place. It was an unavoidable casualty, maybe if the Blue Dragons hadn't been so successful, you all might have lived."

The vile words rolled effortlessly off the man's tongue, his mouth pulled into a venomous sneer. The boy couldn't believe this. They'd been deceived so well, he would have been impressed, had he not been in the situation he was in right now.
Anger bubbled in him. He was livid. He wanted to end NCT, but he was powerless, backed into a corner, literally. He needed to get out of here.

Racking his head for some idea of escape, he unsheathed his machete and slid across the floor, at which the man started firing at him.

The boy saw everything in slow motion—how his blade deflected the bullets, how his pants slid smoothly across the floor, how he kept moving closer to the man.
Now at the man's feet, he caught his legs between his own and twisted, toppling him over.

The man hit the floor with a grunt, dropping his weapon. Clambering over him, the boy pinned his arms down with his knees and brought the hilt of his blade down with all his might onto the man's forehead, leaving behind a nasty gash. The man below him jerked and pushed him off as he groaned in pain, disoriented, as the boy ran for his life once again.

He continued to make blind turns, pulling his handgun out and firing at any member he encountered on his way, hoping he'd somehow find a mode of escape. Fate was on his side, and he reached the stern of the ship only slightly scathed. Thankfully, it was unguarded.
NCT had brought them out into open ocean—there was no land for miles.

He had to think fast, they would find him at any given moment. He paced back and forth, until his eyes landed upon several jet skis lined up against the rails.