Enigma II : Magic Card

/20.4/ Before I Knew

 ⚠️WARNING: Mention of violence is in this chapter that may upset a few readers.

Darkness.

For some people, it's a pleasure. When the abrupt random dreams film-scrolling in my head went to a halt, and as I started to realize I was waking up a bit, I had felt the same.

For the first few seconds.

Fear of premonition and quandary started to dispense as soon as I recalled the last clips of memories available. My head was all over the place.

Trying to peel open my eyes gave me the same dark when they were closed before. Some scant lights would start to splotch phosphenes at the corners, slowly, and the darkness blurred out in a blinking transition.

I saw silhouettes, four or five, moving, not aware of my regained consciousness yet.

I went to lift my head up in a jiffy, before knowing that I shouldn't have. The first shuffle of ultimate pain immediately crawled onto the back of my neck. The heartbeat seemed a rhythmic burn in my throat. I sensed a patch of a tingling sensation at my hairline, capturing the presence of a stiffening scab fixed over dried out blood. Firsthand, I winced in pain.

That took the attention of two of the strangers. Both of them pivoted on their feet and stared down at me, shadowing the light above behind with their statures so as to appear their adequate heights as a behemoth.

"Looks like she has woken up..." One mumbled.

I tried to get up by myself, gradually learning about the number of binds on my wrists twisted backward to one clump in the process. The gag rammed in my mouth restrained tongue movement, despite trying to swallow the dryness away there was no improvement. "So now, finally everyone's back in one piece." The stranger grotesquely eyed around the space, ending his line with a tsk, "Good." Tracing his eye pathway, I scurried mine around to take a view of my surroundings too. Initially, my lungs would halt an inhale.

BTS, the Bangtan Boys, all seven of them, tied up like small livestock in a slaughterhouse, a few minutes away from immolation. My mouth swooshed an inaudible exclaim at the scene.

"Ungag her. Not like it's gonna help her much even if she decides to scream," My hair was harshly pulled back next moment, a thick veiny hand alighted to pull out the woven dirt from my mouth. I worked my tongue futilely to eliminate the sour bad taste.

"Take a look Joon Shik." This time, a female voice arrived from somewhere on the right, "Does she seem familiar enough?" The subject was a haggard tan-skinned male. With burning orbs under focused dim light, he espied me from tip to toe. "Not sure," his nose almost tipped my nose, "That footage didn't have a clear view. But fifty bets, it's ought to be her."

"The figure incredibly matches up," the third man in the room stood nearby, whooshing a puff of smoke out from the cancer stick in his mouth. His eyes slurped at the view, "Same curves."

"Let's take that she's it. Now about these-" The only female now stomped out from the shadow into the flood of light, "What happened? Did you drug them too much? The effect should've worn out by now. Why isn't a single limb moving?" She pointed at the sessile creatures in front of her eyes.

Joon Shik's shoes screeched against the gravy tiles until the right was shot into Taehyung's stomach, "Bastard, get up!" The following grumbled in pain. When his eyes shot open, the nerves spoke in blood-red.