A week before the wedding, in the exclusive property by the northern share of Cheon.
Empty hallways that are dimly lit, endless corridors and uncountable dark steel doors, faint echoes and murmurs eerily bouncing from one corner towards another, engines unstoppably revving beneath the ground, and the smell of disinfectant and medicine plunging in the air was enough to wake someone from the brink of death.
"Move him..."
Coughing excessively and feeling his lungs about to burst, a barely recognizable human being whose wrist and feet are helplessly tied around with iron ropes, grunts in pain. He tried to move a finger but as he did, he yelled in agony when the metallic thorns around the rope dug deeper into his flesh, painfully piercing right through the bones of his wrist.
P-Please . . . make it s-stop.
"Oh, he's awake."
And though he could barely hear anything around him, but the stifling and prolonged beep ringing in his ears, he tries to sharpen his hearing senses when his eyes were useless at the moment, because even though how much he tried, he was not surprised that he couldn't even lift his lids open.
"Drag him and let's get this over with. Has the young master arrived?"
Where are these fuckers taking him? He remembered not too long ago that he was in his cathedral dome with the fine company of two luscious women from both sides of his arms with his floor bathed in money and a prostitute dancing on his bed.
"Yes, Sir-nim, the young master's currently on his way, Sir."
A sturdy man with muscles resembling thickened granite, held the briefcase tightly in his hand while his jacket was draped over his other arm. Crap, he curses, "We're dead late . . . Double time!"
The man who was held hostage lets out a low grunt again when he felt a hand clench around his hair, turning his once numb skull alive. He was then mercilessly dragged with half of his body grinding against the slippery floor. The back of his head felt like detaching from his neck, but he couldn't bother to speak, because even simply breathing was already painful and hard for him to bear without feeling his insides twisting.
"Hurry up the scouts to return to their post at once."
"Sir, yes sir."
Dragged by his hair with his body as good as dead, the person tries his luck to lift his left lid where the pain was more bearable than to do so in the other. This was his last luck to look for a bit of hope present, a hope that'll enlighten him to escape this hell and his door-knocking death.
But as he presumptuously expects too much to see that little light inside the darkest coves he is in, it was no use. Just like finding a needle in a room stacked with hay.
His eyesight was blurry and everything and everyone around him was disoriented.
His drop of hope was now tarnished.
He finds himself troubled at lifting his other lid when the pain of simply moving it was equivalent to having his head split in half. What happened? He can't seem to remember.
The only thing he's been familiar with for the whole day was the sharp and scorching pain all over his aching body.
He feels the continuous warm liquid streaming from his eye down to his cheek and then to his fractured jaw.
And suddenly . . . he remembers.
It was not his translucent tears, but a thick and dark crimson shade of red pooling from his eye.
Blood . . . his blood.
He can no longer wonder but suffer in the depths of despair as to why his right eye felt empty.
When the person dragging him suddenly stopped, he heard a brief click of a door before his entire body was thrown inside a cold room without hesitation, a very cold and wet room.
With his face slamming and kissing the floor first, his body slammed against the floor next and he felt more uncomfortable than before. It was worst than suffering on a deathbed.
He felt the sticky liquid sipping through his clothes, making him now soaked and wet all over, and it smelled and tasted horrid against his lips. He opens his left eye and with his poor vision, he knew it wasn't water.
"Keep your head down, if you don't want to say farewell to your remaining eyeball."
The abducted man drops and presses his forehead against the dirtied floor, quivering in fear of provoking them.
If there was one thing he confirmed with his short valued existence, it was that he found out hell also existed on earth.
"Has the young master arrived?"
"I'm afraid Shu-nim hasn't sent a word yet, sir."
On his last day of enjoying his gift of life, it was now too late for him to have thought of its value, to have thought that he could have chosen a path in a peaceful field to own with his wife and children by his side. Mi Amor. . . But instead of seeing his wife one more time and hearing her angelic voice, he was forced to listen to footsteps, heavy footsteps splashing against the wet floor inside the horrible room filled with inhumane stink in the air.
How ironic.
He's pathetic and too ambitious. He admits his mistake so just kill him already . . . Where the pain he shall endure will be shortened.
The man dressed in a tight, but tainted black shirt turns his head to his colleague by the corner as he places the briefcase at the table beside the couch above a small stage by the corner, the only area that appears to be noble.
"The young master's not on his way yet?"
And he appears to be the last person who's surprised in the room when the others all froze from moving the materials to another location.
His colleague in the corner breathes heavily and devastatingly shakes his head, "He hasn't left the training ground since the previous week." The news about it has been everyone's perfect ordeal of a nightmare accustomed to reality.
Where their existence can be thrown out to the beast's den at any second from now.
"Bloody hell . . ." The man sat appallingly by the end of the stage, the joints of his knees that everyone once compare them to the density of a bowling bowl turns into a marshmallow in a split second.
If they knew so, they wouldn't have finished the mission within three days when the young master even gave them a week to settle it.
Double crap!
They shouldn't have returned to the headquarters just yet. Was this why his colleague and the rest are hiding in here?
He shakes his head. No, it was more like they were safe when they have been sent to disposal with a granted mission from the heir.
Ssi-bal . . . (Shit)
And he has to report everything to the heir now that he's back from his own mission. He's sure their arrival has already been recorded and reported straight to the devil's operators.
There's no backing down now.
"It's happening again . . ."
They all mutter in unison then fall into a troubled silence as they felt a cold shiver running through their backs.
Author's Note:
FOR MORE chapters to read read my story on Webnovel.
I upload new chapters there first, three days in advance before I'll post it here. Hehehe.
I also often upload chapter there daily. (^-^) V
BOOK TITLE:
Captivated (BL)
MY ACCOUNT:
Daniel_BlakeZD