65

Taehyung

Seokjin walked over to the back table and came back with his favourite equipment - Clippers.

They usually chopped off the fingers clean and without much effort, a brutal and bloody surprise coming from your everyday garden clippers. Hoseok also came back with a spiral knife.

My favourite.

Hoseok handed it to me while I watched Seokjin get to work. It started slow, a few punches, choking and when he still didn't talk, Seokjin moved to the nails.

It hurt like a son of a bitch.

Yoongi's screams were muffled by the cloth, but the way his body trembled, it was obvious he was in terrible pain.

He hadn't lost any fingers yet.

Only three nails.

I raised my hand, Seokjin immediately stopped. Hoseok tore the cloth from Yoongi's mouth, he screamed as the pain coursed his fingers and travelled its way through his body. His hand was strapped to the armrest, I saw the way his fingers shook. They were covered in blood, and I chuckled at the sight.

"You want to talk now?" I wondered, looking at his bloody mess.

"Fvck… you…" he wheezed.

"No? You don't want to?" I taunted. "Okay then. Enjoy."

Seokjin held the clipper over Yoongi's index finger, just below the first knuckle.

Cut.

He waited.

Waiting was a form of mental torture.

The best way to break someone.

Waiting made them tense, more alarmed, their fear would hold no bounds.

I counted the seconds in my head.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Yoongi screamed.

He bellowed so loud my ears rang. His pain was music to my ears and I sat down on the chair behind me.

"That was barely a finger," Seokjin muttered as he stared at the bloody knuckle on the floor.

"Make sure he doesn't bleed to death," I reminded.

We weren't done with him yet.

Not until we had our answers and Jungkook was safe in our room.

A few minutes passed, another finger lost.

One on each hand.

I waited to see if he would talk but Yoongi stayed stubbornly quiet. Shaking my head to repress my frustrated growl, I got up and Seokjin moved out of the way.

Leaning forward, I grabbed Yoongi's chin, "If you talk, this is going to be easy on you," I warned.

"I… know… you…" he gasped. "Doesn't… matter… if I talk… or not… I won't… make… it… out alive… either way."

I cocked my head to the side, regarding him with curious eyes, "Smart. You're right. You won't make it out alive either way. But I'll make your death quicker if

you speak."

Another lie and he knew it.

When he didn't speak, I sighed just for a good measure.

Taking my sweet time, I strolled around his chair, giving him some time to catch his breath.

I stopped in front of him again.

He was staring at his feet, his swollen lips set in a tight, stubborn line.

I lightly dragged the spiral knife down his cheek, not enough to break his skin. But it was enough to let him know what was about to happen next. When the knife reached his other cheek, I pressed it harder, and blood oozed through the broken skin. He winced but stayed quiet, biting on his lip to stop the scream.

I knew the spiral knife burned where it cut and Yoongi was probably in agony. I dragged the knife to his neck, leaving a trail of blood. The skin turned red, and I pulled away. His breathing was harsh and laboured. Each breath appeared difficult to inhale and exhale.

I moved the knife to his thighs, making cuts as I went. The cuts weren't too deep, just enough to cause pain that would be unbearable after a few minutes.

"Are you ready to talk now?" I asked after his screams calmed down.

He hissed and glared at me.

I shook my head.

Hoseok paced the floor while Seokjin got to work again.

Two more nails and fingers.

And then I made cuts over his body.

Sometimes we walked out of the room, leaving Yoongi alone to breathe through his pain. And then we were back. It kept going like that… for hours.

Until I started to feel helpless and completely hopeless.

The next time we walked into the room again, Yoongi's head was hanging low.

~~~

It was already morning.

For an hour, I paced outside Jimin's room, debating if I should go in or not.

Guilt weighed heavily on my heart. Instead, I stayed outside.

Then, I was in the piano room, wishing Jungkook was there.

Another pang of guilt.

Another wave of pain.

After an hour of wallowing in self-pity, I walked away and made my way into the basement.

The fury was back in full force.

The air smelled of blood.

It felt heavy with death and uncertainty.

I stared at Yoongi, waiting for a reaction from him. I started toward him, he slowly lifted his head. His face was almost unrecognizable. Swollen, red, a mix of green and purple. Several cuts. Some deep, some barely there.

He stared at me through swollen eyes, I saw his jaw working. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He tried again, it sounded like some gurgling noise. Yoongi tried to clear his throat and coughed a few times before taking a deep breath.

I saw his throat moving as he swallowed and then tried again, "He…"

My eyes widened, I stepped forward, "Where is he?" I demanded, my heart accelerating and beating as wildly as a caged bird.

"He… is…" He choked before continuing slowly, "Is… at… my house. That's… where… Byungchan… is hiding.… My house… he u…ses it… hiding… place."

"Your house?" Seokjin growled.

Yoongi nodded slowly.

I raked my fingers through my hair and swivelled around, punching the wall.

All this time.

He was right under our fvcking nose.

"Move out," I ordered Seokjin and Hoseok.

"For your sake, I hope he's there," I told Yoongi.

He stared at me blankly, I saw something in his eyes. It almost looked like regret, "J-Jungkook… is… there."

"Why are you telling us that now? Why wait until you are half dead?" Hoseok questioned.

I wondered the same thing.

Yoongi didn't answer.

He glanced down, and I saw his lips move.

No sound was made but his lips told me what I needed to know.

Jimin.

With a deep breath, I nodded toward my men.

They walked out, with a final glance at Yoongi, I walked out too.

We met with Namjoon in the hall, he glanced at the closed door, his eyes murderous, "Is he alive?"

"He is. Don't kill him yet," I ordered.

Just in case he was lying.

When Jungkook was found, then his death would be signed. I took a step forward but stopped, "How is Jimin?"

Namjoon let out a pained groan, his face twisting, "Sam took the bullets out. He… is okay."

Taking a deep breath, he stared at the wall, his eyes filled with so much pain.

I looked down, wishing this wasn't real.

I wanted to tear Yoongi apart piece by piece.

With a heavy heart, I nodded at Namjoon, "We found Jungkook's whereabouts."

He looked at the door, "I can't leave Jimin."

"I was never going to ask you to leave Jimin. The rest of us will go."

He sent me a grateful look, I walked out, followed by Seokjin and Hoseok. A few of my men were already waiting next to the cars. I got in without a word while Seokjin took the driver's seat.

The drive to Yoongi's house was tense, when the car came to a stop, I quickly stepped out. This time, Seokjin and Hoseok took the lead,

while I stayed in the rear.

Hoseok crashed the door open, we were inside in mere seconds as soon as we stepped inside, guns were blazing and bullets were flying.

The fvcker!

Byungchan was ready, he wasn't alone.

His men surrounded the house, I quickly ducked, avoiding a bullet which could have pierced my head. I growled in frustration and shot at the man in front of me, my bullet going right through his heart.

I didn't have time for fvcking child's play.

Turning around, I fired at any men who came into my path. Bullets in their legs, some in the neck, and a few in the head.

Through it all, Byungchan was nowhere to be found.

A coward.

Of course, he was nowhere to be found.

When most of his men were down, I nodded at Seokjin and Hoseok. They searched through the house as I continued to gun down the rest of the men.

I saw a man standing in front of me, pointing his gun at my chest.

I pulled my trigger, but nothing happened.

A gunshot echoed across the wall. I expected a fiery pain in my chest, but when I saw the man drop dead.

I glanced at Seokjin beside me, he rubbed his gun against his pants and sent me a wink, "You're welcome."