BTS: Yandere Horror |1|

Jhope: Experiment Gone Wrong

Hobi's POV:

Everyday it's the same. Check up, needle, food, toilet, another test, more tests then test. It's never different.

It's a ritual that I closely follow everyday. It's become the only thing that's part of me now, besides this white always steam-ironed gowned and a collar labeled HOPE. I have no idea what this code is supposed to mean. Is it my identity?

There is a faint knocking on my door, the sound immediately spurring a response from me.

"It's testing time." The monotone female voice is muffled behind the door. I hop off the bed, bare feet padding towards the door.

Pit pat. Pit pat. Then a sound of a sliding door.

THE WOMAN, whose name I still do not know, is quite shorter than me. Her pale blonde hair tied into a tight bun only made her forehead much larger than it actually was. Her lips was pressed tightly into a thin line, eyes emotionless and wrinkled apparent.

"You know the way," she speaks again and looks down at the board in her arms, making a few notes. I nod, taking my hand and combing my fingers through it before turning and heading down the white hall.

I can navigate these walls even with my eyes closed. It's true. With enhanced sight smell and touch I can hear the wiping of my daily needle 10 miles away.

Without further instructions I guide myself directly onto a padded chair and sit down, eyes forward and arms on the arm rest, just as I have always been trained.

"He's doing good." The doctor, drowning in his thick Russian accent speaks to the blonde lady.

"His overall bodily performance is improving. Soon we will be able to move on to phase 4."

"Has his brain begin to develop neural patterns?"

"There is much fluxing in his brain activity, but I hardly think that's a problem. He is a young after all."

I feel the needle going into my skin, but the pain never registers for me. I close my eyes, feel the serum finally converging with my blood flow. A small cup filled with blue fluid is handed to me and without any instruction, I swallow it down. My eyes quickly flick to THE WOMAN scrutinizing me, making a few quick notes on her board. I gulp the contents down, feeling the blue spiciness squirm down my throat. It's disgusting, but I learn to get used to it.

I place the small cup on the small table beside me, eyes staring forward, a poker face betraying no emotions.

"That's remarkable." The Russian accents pierces my ears. "I've increased the concentration, yet nothing is happening to him. He hasn't moved one inch."

"That is very interesting." The blonde woman speaks, a tinge of awe evident in her voice. "I think he is ready."

"Let the department run a few tests to confirm it."

"Right." She turns to face me and I make eye contact with her. "Lets go." THE WOMAN says, her voicing echoing around the white room. I swivel myself off the chair and make my way out of the room.

With a straight back and chin up, I exit the room and become engulfed by the whiteness of the hallway, my clothes almost completely blending in. Multiple rooms pass by us, all filled with bodies shuffling around in white masks and aqua coloured surgical gloves. All I see of the other bodies that are being operated are their two feet.

I am about to take a turn towards another room, when a huge cramp assaults me. I double over, eyes squeezed with pain and hands squeezing my stomach. The sounds of ringing bells fill my ears and I can hardly register my surrounds. A few arms firmly grip my shoulders, arms and legs before I'm lifted off the ground and away.