The Slaughterhouse

- 9 -

As soon as the pink dressed woman talked into this strange walkie-talkie, that seemed more like she was simply talking to her wrist, but she indeed was holding a very small black and grey device, he heard the very distinctive sound of boots trotting on the other side of the door. The two best friends weren't worried too much, maybe there was simply a situation in the bathroom and one of the recruits had been sick. That's what both Jimin and Hoseok prayed for, but instead, they heard the sound of someone cocking their gun, so they knew that nothing good had come out of this whole situation. Just like everyone else, they were trapped, forced to stay in this little room which was surrounded by officers that were guarding the entrance and the exit. Since the pale lady couldn't do much to fix this situation, she grew increasingly nervous, pacing around the small room and now hurrying the all white-dressed people. The tension grew, and it made both Jimin and Hoseok nervous, understanding that something wasn't right in there. Nobody else really seemed to care though, as all of those devilishly hot people were only talking about what awaited them and how excited they were to see every detail, every crevasse, every single dust particles inside The Slaughterhouse. They had been told they wouldn't have much to wear other than the white tunics they had all on their backs and everyone seemed to be alright with it, but the fact that the lady in pink wore such extravagant clothing compared to the rest of them kind of threw off some people, but they assumed she was simply a rather important character in this fragment of a society in a world where the strongest lived but not the weakest. There were way fewer people in the room now, as everyone had passed, one by one, through the strange little corridor to the side, a procedure that was apparently "necessary", in order to get the richer people used to the sight of new arrivants. Like everyone else, they had both been pampered with delicate powders and exquisite perfumes, slightly different for everyone. For example, Jimin's perfume was on the sweeter and softer side, with obvious touches of strawberry and cinnamon, while Hoseok had been sprayed with a perfume that smelled more like wild berries and mint. Everyone was different in their own way, but...weirdly, everyone looked very similar, because of their light, aerial, almost fairylike looks. Still feeling fairly uncomfortable, the two best friends stood shyly next to one another. Whenever they moved, the light white cloth touched their bare skin, exposing it slightly.

"What number are you, hyung?" asked softly the blonde-haired male, trying to fill the awkward silence that filled the room, since only him and Hoseok were alone in the room, the lady in her huge single feathered hat smiling awkwardly at them.

She was staring at them, before she turned her head away from them, sending a little wave of silver glitter flying, in the same manner as a flower sending out its pollen flying through the air. Staring at her walkie-talkie, the lady seemed nervous, taping her high-heels against the floor in annoyance.

"One," he said, biting his bottom lip in nervousness, not understanding what it meant, "how about you?" he asked, but before Jimin had the time to reply to his question, she stood up and smiled at the two of them.

"Number two? It's time for you to come into the corridor!" she smiled. Of course, Jimin gave her a tired smile and stood up despite his shaky legs.

"I'll see you later hyung!" he smiled, but Hoseok reluctantly held his hand, scared something would happen to his short best friend, looking at him with pleading eyes, not wanting to be left alone in the room. "Oh don't you worry, Hoseokie! We'll see one another soon enough!" he comforted him, promising him he'd be cautious and safe in a little whisper.

Jimin directed himself despite his weak legs towards the corridor the lady pointed him to walk through. He continued straight for a few seconds, then he made a left, falling face to face with a guard, who smiled at him and weirdly directed inside. He had just enough time to realize that the guard that seemed polite and nice to him, had a good arsenal of weapons, all hidden either around his belt, safely put in a case or hidden in his belt, but it wasn't very subtle of him, because the irregular shape of an American puncher is always easily recognizable. Jimin frowned as he recognized the weapon, and stepped in with the guard, that guided him on a stage. It felt strange to him, reminding him of back when he was still a child and acted once in a play. Back then, when he was still a child, he didn't have any of the main roles, but his own mother had told him that he had been the best flower out there, encouraging him to continue, and later, when he finally got a more important role as the villain of the play, she had told him he was stunning in the role of the evil black swan. The critics had also found him stunning, a true angel, as they so well wrote, gracious and aerial like the wind itself, making many gasp to the sound of silk cloth fluttering through the air as he danced wonderfully on the scene. Despite putting in effort after effort, his career as a ballet dancer had been cut short by the slow withering of Earth, and his family and him had to hide in what Jimin called his home...pillaged and robbed by other starving humans, the Park family found itself down to only one survivor. Soon after, he had to hide in the hole in which he had been found, alone, exposed to the elements. The guard behind him smiled widely at him, and pushed him forth a little, in the same manner, a mother would with her shy child.