The Devil In You

Rock 'n' Roll Suicide

Suggested listening: David Bowie - Rock 'n' Roll Suicide

Hwoarang watched incredulous while Jin slowly removed his long leather jacket and rolled up the purple shirt's sleeves. It was Hwoarang's favourite shirt, it fit his figure just perfectly and Jin always wore it when they went out together in the city or for dinner. Not today. He wore it for his own special occasion, one which Hwoarang was growing to dread with every passing minute.

-Dr. Bosconovitch. He may not want to hear the side effects, but I do, and I have all the right to know, since I will be the one to tend to his wounds or whatever the outcome of this session. Please, tell me what may happen.

-Young man... you won't have to tend to anything. Mr. Kazama won't be moved from the laboratory for at least a day after the treatment, for his and our safety. Let me explain. First and foremost, there will be intense pain, the most intense he has ever felt, I'm afraid. He will have to be restrained, because the lack of control over himself will most likely turn him into the Devil we know and fear. He will be less potent, less in control of his power as well, but as angry as he can be. For no reason he can be let go. Then, when the treatment has ended, pain will remain, even though bearable compared to before. He will feel discomfort in his limbs, will have little to no physical strength, and might develop a high fever in response. And, of course, other side effects I may have not foreseen.

-This is... inhumane! Beastly! Jin, please, listen to me, it's not worth it! Let him work on the cure a little while longer, it may become slightly better at least... but like this...

-Hwoarang, stop. I already told you, don't make me regret having you here. If you want to do something useful, support me while I undergo the treatment. I will do it, with or without you. Your choice.

-How could I abandon you now? Don't play mind games with me, at least. You're not your father.

Jin disregarded Hwoarang's last sentence, and lay on the metal table where Dr. Bosconovitch restrained his arms and legs with heavy metal clasps. He then proceeded to inject Jin in the arm with a very not safe looking green liquid, and after that a bulletproof glass cupola with a machinery on top descended on the table and on Jin.

-Are you ready, Mr. Kazama? This will hurt, a lot.

-Ready.

Dr. Bosconovitch pushed some buttons, then pulled a lever, and the machinery started moving along all of Jin's body. At first, Jin just started sweating and clenching his jaw; but soon enough, slowly but surely, his hints of moans of pain turned into full screams which would haunt Hwoarang for years. Jin was screaming his lungs out in pain, trying without success to get free from the restraint, turning his torso in unnatural positions as to escape the pain he was into.

-No... NO! LET HIM OUT! It's too much, can't you see? He's going to die in there! Doctor, LET HIM OUT!

-If I did let him out now, it would have been all in vain. Also, it would leave his cells in an extremely unstable status, which could likely lead him to his death. The procedure, once started, has to end.

-This is a nightmare... a nightmare! And you, you are not a doctor... you are a torturer.

-Call me as you like, young man. This is Mr. Kazama's wish.

In the background, Jin's screams hadn't stopped and, if possible, even increased in intensity. Only, when Hwoarang turned to him, he was turning: tattoos on his body and face, horns, claws, the red jewel in the middle of his forehead, and those glowing, yellow eyes. Devil Jin was there, and he didn't like the pain he was feeling. The screams turned into terrible growls, and he tried to melt the glass with his laser; which he couldn't do, because it was built exactly to contain the beast.

What happened next was strange to witness, but difficult to watch. Overcome by pain, Jin continued to switch from his human form to Devil Jin, numerous times, as if the body couldn't stabilise on one form, one being, couldn't process the pain anymore.

Hwoarang was on the floor, hand on the heart, crying for what the man he loved the most was going through. In what was now a whisper - he didn't have the mental strength to demand anymore - he told Bosconovitch: -Doctor, please, let him out. For the love of all that's sacred, let him out.

-He's almost finished, don't worry. He just have to purge the Devil from him, and this first session will be done.

-F-first...?

-You wouldn't expect to beat cancer in one sitting, would you? It works the same here.

-You have to be joking. He can't possibly endure this all again. He will be half dead when he's finished.

-But not dead. What Mr. Kazama is asking for is something nearly impossible. I'm making it possible, but no one said it would be easy or comfortable. You have to earn everything in this life.

-You will have to earn your life if you keep talking this way, doctor. It's a person you're speaking of here, and not any person, it's my heart and soul. I will crush you here and now if you don't pay respect to his name when you speak it.

-Do it. And how do you think he will feel when you will have deprived him of his only way of being different from his father? You are on the wrong side of the leverage, young man. And look, with a lovely chit-chat, the procedure is done.

The glass cupola was lifted and Hwoarang ran to Jin. The man was barely breathing and when the metal clasps opened, he didn't move.

-Jin? Jin, please tell me something.

Hwoarang tried to clean his lover's forehead from the sweat, but it was too copious; the man was burning up, he surely developed a fever due to the treatment.

-Doctor, some paracetamol, and quickly. A towel too, so I can clean him up a bit.- he held his hand and whispered to his ear -I'm not leaving you alone. I'm right here, I have no intention to leave, you hear me? I'm right here.