The day was cold and calm and so were you. Today was the day you had to quit your job and move on. There was no room for emotions. Emotions make mistakes. Moving on was the right decision, the smart decision, and you knew this ... but a part of you didn't want to accept it. You did everything you could to keep safe but it was never good enough. They always found you.
Something about your new life here as Lisa felt like home, you just couldn't tell why. You'd never really had a home and as you stared around your empty base, it was clear to you that this isn't what you wanted it to be. But here you had friends, kind of, and a job that you didn't completely suck at.
Shame.
You double checked the apartment before you left, there was no trace that you were ever here. The only thing you left untouched was the mirror covered in newspaper, you couldn't bring yourself to uncover it. The boxes of belongings you had decided to dump late last night a couple of roads down near a homeless man. None of the possessions were personal and you could aways steal someones card to buy new ones.
You walked over to the loose floorboard in the corner and placed the remaining penknife, 5 gas canisters and mask into your leather jacket pocket, just incase. The dust had already started to settle.
Time to move on, again.
And with that you locked the apartment for the last time. Hobi wasn't hanging around his door this morning like he sometimes did when he knew you had a big day. This disappointed you. He saw the boxes last night and knew you were due to leave today but he hadn't come to say goodbye. Part of you wished he did. You were still suspicious of him though. His background check was clear but his relationship with the purple haired broad man they call Jin and thus the rest of the group still bothered you.
How do they all know each other? Stop thinking about it, it doesn't matter. You're not going to see them after today anyway.
Your mind drifted through the boys you had interacted with the most and what you'd miss about them. Hobi's positivity, Tae's humour, Namjoon's kindness, Jin's purple hair. No man has ever pulled off purple like that man has. Even Yoongi's unbothered attitude and Jungkook's adorability wandered through your thoughts. Then your mind landed on Jimin. Granted, there wasn't anything you'd miss about Jimin. In all your interactions he had been unnecessarily rude and cocky, even the first time you met him. But his eyes wouldn't leave your mind. the dark chocolate pools stuck to your brain you like a tattoo and there was no erasing his familiar gaze.
What nice eyes to waste on a horrible guy.
The world outside was tepid, serenity hung in the air and the streets were clear. On your short commute you saw no cars, no pedestrians, not even a bird. The world was asleep, or hiding, and you wished you were too. You had a bad feeling about today and wondered if this was the calm before the storm.
Here goes nothing.
You zipped up your leather jacket and approached the café. It was about 9, an hour after the café should have opened, Jimin was down on the rota to open up shop today. But something stopped you before you entered. There were no customers. None of the regulars who you would see every day around this time were in. All you could see through the window was distressed wood and empty seats.
Hmm, weird.
Slowly, you approached the front door. The chain that locked them had been cut and swung isolated in the air like a hanged man.
Fuck.
It was clear to you that this was a break in. You thought you owed it to business and boys to check it out, you knew you were more than capable of performing a thorough investigation and keep their business afloat. It was the least you could do as you were leaving them on such short notice. Either way, you didn't want to take any chances.
You whipped your head left and right to check the coast was clear before putting your gas mask on, clutching the pen knife in your hand and throwing a now opened canister into the middle of the café. If the culprits were still lurking around, they would be rendered useless in a matter of seconds. But no bodies fell. The coast seemed clear.
You kicked the front door open, letting it swing on its hinges a few times before opening, incase of any booby traps. Nothing in the close perimeter reacted to the change in movement so you decided it was safe enough to step inside.
Something seemed off. The café was unusually clean for a break in, the tables were undisturbed and nothing had been stolen on the café's main floor.
They must have wanted the cash.
Still airing on the side of caution, you slowly approached the till. It was closed, undisturbed, like the rest of the café. Quickly it became evident to you that this wasn't a robbery.
It was a hijacking.
By them.
They weren't here for money, they were here for you.
Without thinking, your hand searched under the counter for where you had taped your handgun, but it was no where to be found. In its place you found a post it note, and what was written on it made your stomach churn.
Taking up most of the post it note was a drawing. A large ring with a singular flame in the middle.
The Ring of Fire.
Growing up in The Academy, the group known as the Ring of Fire was a myth, legend. No one believed the group was real. All you knew from the stories you heard was that the Ring was made up of an elite group of spies, the best of the best, all specially trained to capture and kill their victim without leaving any evidence. Just like fire.
But it was the words scribbled under the drawing that made your hear sink. scribed under the circle was the following:
'Our apologies, sweetheart.'
You knew there was something up with the boys but you never thought it was this. You didn't even know that The Ring was real until now. But this made it all make sense. The odd behaviour. The mystery and wounds. For god sake they even all wore silver rings and you had never connected the dots.
Fuck.
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A/N
A short one but a good one, I hope!
:)