purgatory. » bts

022

—JHS
6:03 AM KST

hoseok was confused, and he was sweating. a lot.

what was even more weirder was that he woke up while standing. he was probably out for a good few hours—probably around five? six? he couldn't tell.

hoseok tried to walk, but he couldn't. he was stuck to the ground—or whatever was below him.

he let his eyes adjust to the darkness, blinking hard several times. he could roll his head left and right, at least. the ground was cold, hard, an very uncomfortable—he wanted out. 

he realized he was in a 'cross' position, where his arms were outstretched to make a 't' shape with his body, held down by leather restraints, and his ankles were cinched together with something that also appeared to be attached to the ground physically. hoseok struggled against the leather, which was buckled tightly—it dug into his skin painfully.

"where am i?" hoseok asked to the empty room, rolling his eyes around and craning his neck as far as it would go to see around. it was nothing but a dark, slightly humid room—kind of like a jail cell without the bars.

"jung hoseok."

his shoulders jumped a little when he heard his name being called by a distorted voice—he frowned, trying to look for the source of the voice.

the voice chuckled. "you'll never find me."

"who are you?" hoseok violently shook against the metal, making dull clangs and clunks. 

"that's no use," the voice simply replied, completely unfazed by his behavior. "jung hoseok, you're a good person, and for good people, i believe in second chances."

"yes, i know, so please let me out," he gritted his teeth, feeling helpless against the restraints that held him back. "t-that night was an accident. i had too much to drink."

"many people get drunk every day, hoseok. but those drunkards don't sexually assault someone on a daily basis, and leaving them dead right after. you can't blame alcohol for your faulty actions—you have to take responsibility. this is your responsibility now. you're going to prove yourself worthy, hoseok."

"wh—i can't prove anything with these chains—restraints, or whatever, on me—"

"that's the point. you will find a key somewhere in this room to free yourself from the mechanism i've got going on there—'x' marks the spot—or else, this mechanism will rip you apart—literally. the thing you are laying on is not the ground—it's a cross, made of steel—when your allotted three hours run out, the platform under you will split into two...like the girl's legs you forcefully spread open that night."