His eyes held no form of guilt rather they seemed bored. Well I suppose out of all of them I've spent the least time with him. Makes sense as to why Namjoon would send him instead.
He takes a step nearer with the knife in his hand. I back up and clutch the clothes to my chest, until I hit the tree behind me, he comes closer with the knife still pointed at me.
"Take,"
I blink back in confusion. He rolls his eyes and grabs one of my hands and gently places the knife on my palm.
So... is he letting me go or was I totally wrong about their intentions once again.
"From sombip," he taps on his head.
I look down at the knife in my hand once more, this was the knife I was using.. until I lost it. I guess he got it back for me.
"Thanks," I look back up at him a small smile that shows only his upper row of teeth awkwardly dance along his lips.
Unfortunately I'm unable to smile back, my eyes widen in horror as I look beyond him.
Hidden by the trees stands a lone figure with a gun pointed at us, still quite far and rather dark I cant make out his.. or her, no judgement, facial features.
But there's a certain familiarity about the slenderman/woman.
Stupid. Stupid. Don't think about that. It can't be besides its not like I want to stick around to find out but I'm frozen.
"Yoongi... run," I try to warn him.
He just raises in eyebrow in question and follows my line of sight. Upon realisation he turns at once, taking somewhat of a protective stance in front of me.
"Well, well, looks like you got yourself a boyfriend little missy," the figure hiding in the shade of the trees says, keeping the gun aimed at us.
...little missy.
I know that nickname.
I know that voice.
And unfortunately...
...I know that person.
I feel the fear building up from the pit of my stomach, it's like a vortex of flames just eating away at me internally.
Yoongi notices my shallower and quicker breaths, my unsteadiness. He takes a step back his arms spread out a little to shield me, he looks ready to pounce at an armed guy.
Mystery man draws closer, a low rumble of laughs spill from him, a laugh that once brought joy now feels like a stab to the heart.
Soon the light peeks through the thick tree leaves and illuminates him.
"Long time no see," he says.
Yoongi looks back at me for some sort of explanation. My mind blanks out, only one explanation comes to mind.
I point at the man who can barely be considered human "bad man,"
Yoongi's eyes harden as he turns back to face him, he takes another step back to shield me even more. His right hand reaches back and pulls me by my arm to him.
"Aw c'mon little missy, that's not how you'd treat a family member," he walks closer "Not the way I raised you at least," his tone sounded more like a warning now.
My fists ball up "What do- What do you want," I stammer.
"Call me uncle,"
"Never,"
He smiles, a warm one that hides the evil within. He looks down at the ground momentarily before holding the gun directly at Yoongis forehead.
Yoongi doesn't even flinch, instead he tenses up as if he were even more ready to attack while being held at gunpoint.
He holds me closer, protectively.
The gun holding monster comes closer, still keeping the gun aimed on Yoongis forehead.
He stops when he's about rulers length away from Yoongis face. "It sure would be a shame if your pretty asian boyfriend died,"
My eyes widen in anger, pulling Yoongi closer to me, the gun still followed as if it were glued to his forehead.
I possesively cling onto his arm because this is what the apocalypse has done to us, turned us into animals, my 'uncle' almost took away everything, he's not getting Yoongi too.
"Call me uncle, please?"
"Then will you go away," I swallow my pride, like literally I had to gulp because I hated that word so much "uncle," I say through gritted teeth.
His signature side-smirk of slyness decorates his horrid face. "As per usual, I'd love to play along with your little charade of acting tough," he pats my head, I smack his hand away.
"Never, touch me again," I glare up at him, my eyes now glistening with unshed tears "murderer."
"Right, right," he says, a terrible habit I picked up from him when I was a child, at least he's not denying it. He knows what he is.
"But I'm sorry, I gotta do this little missy," the next thing I realize is him trying to knock Yoongi out with the back of his gun.
I pull Yoongi back and propel myself forward, receiving the blow to the head instead of him.
The next thing I remember is falling back into Yoongi's arms while he yells out something. English or Korean I don't know it all just sounded like wordless sounds.
~
"Ah fu...dge." I don't even have the energy to sit up. I just attempt to nurse the huge bump on my forehead.
I bet I look like friggin Tom from Tom&Jerry after he gets hit and a mountains worth of swelling appears.
I scan the low ceilings of the room with only 1 noisy air-conditioner barely working in the corner, lilac walls with drawings that decorated the bottom half then it struck my disoriented self.
I know this shit place.
It's my shit place.
I roll around the fluffy neon blue rug until I hit the hardwood floor. I pull myself up using the mini vanity table, with is flaking white paint, thats was suitable for no one over 10.
I drag myself to a corner and sit as far away as possible from everything. This was my 7 year old self's dream bedroom. Almost everything in it was built by my uncle and I, back when I used to spend every weekend at his place.
It was perfectly maintained, except for the vanity table but that was mum's, makes sense as to why that'd be the one thing he'd neglect.
There's a rapping on the door. "Yoongi?" I ask despite already knowing it won't be him.
I hear the key turning in the lock, then slowly the door creaks open. "Mornin',"
"Where's Yoongi?" I coldly ask, not shifting from my corner.
He stays by the door, already knowing I'll try to run. "You mean your Japanese boyfriend?"
"He's Korean and he's not my boyfriend,"
"He put up a semi decent fight, he's really quick on his feet, but I knocked him out too. He couldn't really speak English, he'd be useless, so I left him there. They could've got to him, free food ya know,"
Hearing that shatters something within me. Like a brand new glass phone screen that he just dropped it on the floor.
I didn't know Yoongi as well as the others and he barely knew me yet he was ready to attack an armed man for my sake, in fact he did. Most people I know back at fort9 wouldn't do the same, that says alot about Yoongi.
He's one of the few good people left. And he and the 6 others mean the world to each other, in a way a part of each of them died along with him. He hurt all of them and me too.
I wanted to yell at him like I did last time, to scream and shout, tear his head off. But it still won't bring Yoongi back.
If only I'd stayed another day. None of this would have happened.
"Congrats, a new addition to your list," my voice is thick from holding back everthing; fury, grief, remorse.
He places a plate of food on the dresser near the door and walks out the room, locking it once more.
I remain in my corner, bringing my knees to my chest, I lay my face on them. Swallowing the reality of everything that just happened.
I hated him and I also hated myself. If I'd just stayed 1 more night instead of foolishly galavanting out on my own none of this would've happened.
If I'd just tried to not be the hero and leave alone so that there'd be no painful goodbyes, he'd still be alive.