Look

AN: Hi Smokers! Been what? Two or three days? But I am back with a new chapter. I didn't mean to leave you all hanging, I've been feeling a bit under the weather and I have no idea why I got this fatigue going on but I will be trying to post tomorrow as well. That being said, I am not making a solid promise cause today I just... powered through, and please, no one should feel guilty or anything. I want to get these to you as soon as possible. I want to write it; I want to read your guy's comments and keep posting. I am in no way complaining, or giving excuses, I am just telling you why I left you hanging on such a high note cause I, as a reader myself, would've hated that lol. I might also have to edit this chapter a bit more later, if you find a mistake, make it fly out the window. Boring stuff aside, here's the new chapter:

All I can see is nothing. And the nothing sees me.

"What? No. I'm having fun here. What are you on about dimwit?"

'Where is he?' I thought.

"Soon, not so soon, whadya tell you?... Who cares? Let him eat that shit."

'On the chair or the bed? By the door?'

"Strain the pulp or whatever it's called… Look, I'm a busy man here."

'... I don't want him to notice I'm awake.'

"I SAID I'M BUSY! Take your pussy ass shit problems to someone else!"

'The left side… left is louder...'

And then the silence embraced me for a full minute.

"Wake the fuck up already!"

He grabbed ahold of my hair to force my head up and then proceeded to try and pry the one good eye open. So, I gave in.

And showed him that I'm awake.

"Finally. Did you have a good dream or some shit?"

'No.'

Slow, tempered slaps across the cheeks.

"Answer me when I am talking to you."

Had me saying the most submissive: "No." of my life.

And the phone rang for the tenth time that day. And I was grateful. So grateful that I could barely contain it.

"What the hell do they want now?"

Hanging by a literal thread, suspended on bars that were screwed to the wall in his dorm room that I didn't think twice about before since it looked like an outwear hanger. A harmless piece of wood. But it turned out that this piece of metal was improvised support for the ropes that were now binding my arms and legs tightly. Like a torture device.

And the pain wouldn't go away until I'd probably be dead.

"Hello?"

He liked to slap me across the face. But didn't bother injuring me much yet. Since he's never kept someone for himself for so long, I figured that mentally torturing me was a new kind of fun that his cousin has never allowed him to have. And which, from what I was hearing was the type of fun that Jay shouldn't risk since someone might call the cops and they'll search around the dorm rooms for the missing person I was.

But the doubt was there since all of my friends were junkies. Therefore, calling the cops, unless I was gone for months, which would be too late, was not something they'd risk either.

'Just like I couldn't risk calling for Namjoon.' That's what I told myself every time Jay bragged about the guys not looking concerned.

"I'm turning off my phone now. Do you hear me?! Fucking ass."

He kept threatening that, but he only ever hung up. And if I knew that after two days of spending time with him, so did everyone else who ever called him.

"Hungry?" That was the one question I did not expect to come out of his mouth.

The fact that it followed with him taking off my pants was another thing I did not see coming.

But I was too frightened to question it.

"Pee. Bitch."

"…?"

"I put a bucket under you so pee before I make a wider hole!"

When I did not, that was met with a kick to the stomach, and another in the groin.

"Just a second!"

I screamed, certain that I might lose more than one eye and blood flow to every limb.

But I couldn't pee for the life of me since he was watching.

"Please… can you… please… turn around?"

"What did you just ask me corpse?"

"I can't do it if you're…"

The grin that plea has birthed into a creation made the hunger, the pain, and the buzzing noise in my right ear nothing but a distant memory. It was the heart beating and the cold sweat that was snacking at my sanity with shark-like teeth.

A slap on the right cheek and a slap on the left cheek. Making me swing lightly from right to left despite my feet touching the ground. His slaps burned.

And I had no energy or strength to hold myself still.

"How about this? I'll rip that gay dick of yours out and then you pee through the wound. After that, I give it for you to eat so I don't waste any money on a corpse. How does that sound?"

'Sublime.' I replied in my head.

I could only witness my fate being decided. But when he was about to go get the knife from the desk, he stepped backward. Jay's mind, completely changed. But the same deranged smile was still present as he told me:

"The infection will kill you too fast. Or the blood loss and it'll be a pain to clean. So…"

He scratched his chin and kicked me in the stomach, in the back, anywhere that in his mind would've made me pee. And to my surprise and not his, it worked. Mainly because I was too afraid and my body deemed holding liquids unnecessary right now. Hence it discarded it without much input from me.

I was coughing in the newfound silence. Hearing my piss hitting the bucket while his chuckle was making my blood freeze.

"See? I knew you could do it. And I'm looking at it too. You were messing with me before, weren't you?"

I shook my head as a last attempt to keep him off me.

"Just like you've messed with me by letting that blind shit escape. Didn't you?"

Another hit to the back and all I could do was keep in the wail. Keep it behind the clenched teeth. Letting out only the sounds that weren't loud enough for the students next door to hear cause after I screamed too loudly once, he claimed that my ears were not working properly. Therefore, he'll cut them off next time, but thankfully, all that he did was cut around the right one. The blood was still dry around it. However, now, after hearing the reason why he won't cut my genitals, it dawned on me that he didn't cut my ear for the same exact reason. And that I might be safe until he'll decide that he's done having this new type of fun and that he doesn't care whether I die from the mutilation or not.

He walked away in quick strides, picking up his coffee mug after he pulled the bucket from under me.

One feigned surprised eyebrow up and the unwashed coffee cup was used to scoop some of my piss up.

"This is your water. Now, after you make number two, you'll finally get something to eat."

He didn't have to force my head still which was not fun for him. Since I drank, uncaring, numb, and willing.

Which got me harder slaps across the face while the mug was still on my lips.

The mug fell to the ground and the pieces flew around, but he was too busy strangling me to death to care.

"You think if you obey me that'll let you go? How stupid can you be?! You fucking humiliated me so I will humiliate you back, corpse!"

He let go of my throat to pick up a shard. He pulled up the chair he usually left the cursed laptop on and sat down, and began cutting away at my exposed legs.

I could tell he was having fun because he's finally found a weapon he could use to cut, but which would not instantly kill me.

I looked down as he drew around the skin with the blood that came out and then made another cut to connect it with the other.

After he got bored of playing connect the dots, he did what he did the night before. Which was to whisper in my ear while he watched the usual murderous videos. He seemed to like to tell me about how his victims have told him how each action I was witnessing felt. How hopeless they claimed they were feeling. How they could see the ghosts of their loved ones, mere minutes before death.

After he got bored of that since victims he's never met followed suit on the playlist, he told me over and over how I will never escape. How I should consider everyone I knew is on another planet. How painful my death will be and how far away it was since I was not malnourished enough, pitiful enough, and not bleeding enough. Not yet.

"I've ordered this thing like a gag that if I put it on you, no matter how loud you'll scream..."

Another phone call interrupted him.

At first, they only angered him, but soon enough, I also found them annoying despite them providing a mental break.

"What do you want Dwayne?"

The swollen eye almost opened at the sound of a familiar name.

"No clue? What? Sounds good. Yup. I'm coming, I'm coming."

And like he has forgotten that I was there, he changed clothes, perfumed himself, and took his cigarette pack off the bed before heading towards the door. Only when his fingers touched the handle did he realize that my mouth was still free.

Hence, he picked up the rope and wrapped it around and around my mouth until it was inevitable that I will coat it with what little saliva my mouth will produce. Lit up a cigarette, took a hit, and wiped it on the side of my neck as if this was a genius idea. I bit on the rope to cope with the new pain.

And then heard him departing after making sure that one of the nightmarish videos would play on the laptop that was placed on the chair only a few steps in front of me. One video out of the many that made up the most horrendous playlist was all for me to watch until I'll fall asleep. The screams went on and on. The flashing lights. The organs and the blood. The mocking and the tantalizing.

After he was gone, the sole light in that room came from the laptop.

I watched it and cried while he was gone. And then thought of the relief of death and how much I wished he'd give it to me while I still had some of my sanity left.

I cried until I exhausted myself.

Fell asleep and didn't dream of my family, friends, weed, or Namjoon. As if my eyes were still covered even within my dreams, all I remembered seeing was nothing but the void.

That was when I felt a hand caressing my cheek. I leaned into it. Not thinking, not seeing, not questioning it.

And that was a big mistake on my part.

"You dirty ass faggot."

That gad my eye snap open. And slow, steady, not very painful slaps on my chin had me looking up at either a high or drunk Jay.

"Who told you that you can sleep? Did I?"

Shook my head filled with panic. But before I got to apologize, he stuck his fingers in my mouth, hitting my cheeks as if to widen them.

"How about you reward me for not killing you? How about that?"

I nodded with no idea of what that entailed. But the way he had me sitting on the chair made all the little cuts he's made on my legs split right open.

'Why am I sitting down?'

But the moment the zipper of his pants came down, it was obvious.

"Now if you bite, I'll cut your dick off so you'll know how it feels corpse. You hear me?"

I nodded and wondered if it was a good idea to try to make him scream by doing just that.

But in the dead of the night, the chances of someone coming faster than him, to slice off my throat were not worth it.

So, I swallowed drily while he stroked himself, looking straight at where I thought dried-up blood was. And then slapped me in the face with his erect penis until I was sick of it.

He shoved it in only after he's turned the videos back on since the laptop's battery died.

He was staring at the screen that was on the bed while he went in and out my mouth without as much as glancing down.

I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to give him more satisfaction. Cause I found that crying was where I drew the line at some point.

Drinking my piss, saying yes to anything, and pleading for one of the two evil options he offered me like whether I'd him to start breaking bones or cutting my skin was not it. Crying was.

'Kill me.' I begged him in my mind.

When he pushed me into his unwashed penis, that's all I could think of.

'Or let me go.'

The more he was thrusting, the more my eye hurt, and the darker my mind was.

I shut my eye, but that made the sound of the woman crying louder for some reason.

'PICK ONE MOTHERFUCKER! JUST PICK ONE!'

When he came into my mouth, I was grateful for his semen. Since it somewhat eased the stomach acid for a while. And when he collapsed on the bed, pants still down to his knees, I was grateful for whatever he's consumed before he returned.

But the screaming, the crying, the gunshots and the sound of flesh being burned or God knows what else was now the background song to my life.

His snoring was nothing compared to that.

And the sight of the battery being plugged in was more mentally painful than the thought of death itself.

I glanced at the baseball bat with the one eye I could still see out of. And kept staring at it for the rest of the night.

The next day wasn't much different besides the fact that most of my torture came from the ropes themselves digging into the skin and cutting off blood circulation by him simply moving me around and tying me up in the previous position.

He changed his mind after sleeping and decided that I was not allowed to release myself at all from now on. And if I did that, then he'll punish me since the bucket smelled and he didn't like it.

I thanked hell and the heavens because he had to go to class so as to not arouse suspicion.

And he left me alone. Albeit it, with my mouth tied up and laptop turned on.

The routine was eating at my sanity and not the screaming at this point.

But, I wasn't looking at the laptop anymore. I was looking at the only weapon I could see.

The damn bat was collecting dust. The damn bat that my purple fingers couldn't reach. The damned bat that my bloody legs couldn't walk to.

'The damn bat… the damn bat…'

I went in and out of sleep. Sweating, starving and hyperventilating. All happening at different times and sometimes, simultaneously. After another day, I learned that my anxiety was cutting the hunger signals, and anytime Jay was gone, the food was all I could think about. The constant sweating was probably withdrawal symptoms or dehydration. Both would explain constipation.

The rest of my body was just an open wound that wouldn't heal.

He kept making sure everything he's done so far stayed open while he wrote his papers and walked around naked.

Don't know when I lost count of how long I'd been inside his room, listening to people getting killed. Or how long since I got used to him calling me a corpse. How I've gotten used to the sensation of emptiness and pain. How I've lost all hope since he kept telling me over and over: "It's going to hurt so much more. And you're thirsty now but you're going to choke on your blood after I fuck your throat with this knife. So slowly that you'll have time to drink some of it and you'll feel so full. And that's my thanks for sucking my dick, you dirty, faggot corpse."

He didn't scream much anymore but he punched, kicked, and slapped me more often. Thankfully, he kept me posted on how everyone's already moved on. How everyone stopped asking about me and how my parents didn't bother to call either.

I kept telling myself it was because they knew that I wouldn't answer. And at the same time, I hoped I would've kept in touch only so someone wouldn't have expected anything but me picking up after a few rings.

But something did vibrate under his bed.

After nights in a row of trying to twitch my body in that direction, I caught a good view of: 'The phone that Fred got me. It probably fell from my back pocket when I was trying to crawl away or when he was tying the ropes and swinging me about...I guess he didn't notice it because of these people that he buried in that forest but who keep fucking screaming from his laptop day and night!'

And it vibrated, thankfully when he was in class or asleep. Like the caller knew something. Or I couldn't spare any attention when Jay was present.

Either way, the battery died after the second or third day. Or whoever was calling gave up too.

That's when I truly gave up. Mainly because I was disappointed in myself for not trying to get to it while it rang.

Days after, I couldn't even look at the bat anymore. Since no matter how much I've struggled, the ropes weren't loosening. And after he poured salt in every wound, called me every name he could think of, and thought of every way he could hurt me without directly murdering me, he informed me that he was bored of me so he was currently arranging my funeral.

Every time I peed myself, the water from the bucket that he used to clean me up so it wouldn't smell was first used as a drowning device. It was also the only source of water though I wasn't sure if he realized that I was letting the water in on purpose.

I had a love-hate relationship with that blue bucket.

Don't know how he tied me up or how bodies worked under stress but I didn't have any morning wood that'll prompt him to do anything sexual despite him not getting turned on by men. Nothing of the sort was happening. My body shut down for some reason.

Nothing but the constant mental torture and the ongoing open wounds. The bones rattled inside the skin. And the ropes replaced the feeling that used to be my body.

And when someone knocked on his door. I didn't bother looking at it. Not only I couldn't answer since my mouth was tied but I didn't want to be saved anymore. Since if he didn't kill me, his cousin or his gulls would. And they did sound excited to do it over the phone.

The knocks blended with the scream of a little girl right before someone separated her from her body with a butcher knife.

The second time the knocking occurred, it woke me up.

'Go away!' I thought, annoyed.

And after that time, not one knock.

I was grateful for that.

"You won't believe what the guys have prepared for you. It's more thought than we're put into anyone! You should be proud of yourself."

I nodded.

"You would've already seen it if Dan didn't fucking have to go to a boring wedding. But family makes you do what you have to do."

I nodded.

And he slapped me so hard that I could feel my teeth.

"Look more alive! Will you?!"

He fed me that night. It was nothing but a cheap, prepackaged hamburger but as the last meal, or as any meal, I devoured it from his slimy fingers while he was telling the King or the others about me over the phone:

"Rooster's still here. Still kicking! Don't worry. No one suspects a thing. Ain't it amazing?! I could've gotten a pet all this time and didn't know it. No, no one gives a fuck!"

He smiled at me, I smiled back with my mouth full.

But I didn't feel it.

After I ate, I thought I'd feel happier. That a bit of strength would return to my shriveled libs but nothing of the sort happened.

I wanted to snap his neck one day and wanted him to kill me the next.

The sound of the girls suffering from burns seemed far away now.

The sound of him getting ready yet again for going out with 'our friends' was nothing but a distant event.

It was like there was a veil between the world and I.

The pain was gone. The hope was gone. The world itself seemed to be gone too.

And when he wrapped the rope around my neck instead of my mouth like usual, I was ready to die.

"You're just going to stare at me corpse?" He smiled and spat on my face.

But when all I did was blink while the rope got tighter and tighter, it seemed like I have extracted the fun of killing me before the gang got me to themselves.

"You're the worst pet."

He informed me, loosened the rope, and then used it to tie my mouth instead.

All that went through my head, as I watched him look down on me was: 'I hate guys like him.'

I've been bullied ever since I was little. Whether it was by my closest friends or not made all the difference. Bullying can come in many forms. It can be as obvious as a punch to the face or a word thrown around every so often so that everyone thinks low of you. So slowly, but surely, they start keeping their distance even when we were together.

Repetition leaves a scar. And words can get chiseled in just like any other scar.

But I've always kept quiet cause there was nothing worse than being alone all the time. And even though the ones I used to call friends would make fun of me every chance they got, I told myself that I didn't care so often that I started to believe it.

At some point though, the effort wasn't worth it. And I've stopped talking to anyone at all.

I took what I was given from strangers, ignored what I couldn't be given, and darted the second the small insults turned into fists. Mainly because I couldn't get what I wanted at that point. Which was always oblivion.

I didn't expect anything less though since I got nothing to give. So, friendship was not an option. Not the true kind anyway.

I was a rat munching on food that someone else threw out and I got used to it. Went as far as to take pride in the fact that I could make all these people give me their stuff. Since someone always had more money, more drugs, more connections, and more courage than I had.

But when that person would inevitably leave where I couldn't follow, I had what I always had which was nothing.

I didn't miss them, but I missed what they could give me.

Beggars can't be choosers though.

I always wished they could be.

But the world didn't work like that.

And the fact that I always avoided dying was probably because I was young. Probably because I was lucky. Probably because I got out before I made any important promises or any consequences reached the bone. But Jay…Jay latched on as soon as I took a finger and he didn't take the whole hand, he took my whole body.

He started bragging about all he had when I had just lost all I had, which was Namjoon.

About all of his junkie friends. About their drugs. About their money. About everything I ever wanted. So, I said yes and when I got too deep into the forest, they'd already seen my face.

I couldn't take my body back.

And now it was his to strangle. His to silence. His to murder.

All for his stuff. It was never about him. Or Namjoon. Cause I would've stuck by Namjoon even without his stuff. But I would've never been friends with Jay without his connections.

But alas, Jay, in his room. Jay, in the forest. Jay, in the bathroom. Jay, behind the building at night.

Jay was two different people. Jay with his real friends and Jay with the people he had to fool.

And when his play ended and the curtain had fallen, I saw him for the sociopath that he was. And by then, the metaphorical ropes were already too tight to escape. Before the physical ones even made an appearance.

Cause if by some miracle I would've smacked him in the head with that bat while sucking him off when I used to have two free hands, someone would've avenged him. Someone would find out. The police or his gang.

Either way, it wasn't worth fighting for then or now.

'So then why couldn't I kill that guy?'

I kept thinking about it every day. More so than how to escape. More so if I should take the risk and yell my lungs out. More so than about how I got to this point.

Cause I knew that deep down, I wanted to. After all, that's what Jay did to get his stuff. That was the last step for me to finally get my spot. To be part of the 'gang'. Be handed my weed without it having to go through someone else who has a leash around my neck. Be the guy that I've always wanted to be: the dealer. Or at least, someone who belonged with a group.

But I couldn't kill him.

After I thought about it during the first days, I concluded that it was because there wouldn't be any going back to having nothing.

And after I've had nothing for so long, I realized that one can get attached to nothing.

One's identity can get wrapped around being and having nothing.

It's familiar.

And it was all that I ever had.

So, when I could finally escape the cycle, I choked.

Cause my self-esteem did not get to the point that I believed, without any shadow of a doubt, that all I ever wanted was worth someone's life.

Therefore, I deserved to pay.

But all I had was this body.

Never courageous enough to wire myself up in order to have some kind of proof to protect me in case they did turn on me for some reason. Never courageous enough to stick up for myself when they started calling me names for being different even if their different is a normal human being. Never courageous enough to even try to untie myself.

Maybe I could. But I'd never find out.

The repercussions were too much for my brain to handle.

As soon as I've failed to run before getting in, from my perspective, I've already died.

And I had to come to terms with it. That this pine-smelling, narcissistic necrophiliac would be the one to set the bill straight.

All the lies I've told to be part of an already-formed group. To get to smoke their stuff and eat their junk food. All the friends that I've ghosted and placated. Whom I never considered friends in the first place. Lied about my personality and my past too. All the times I should've done anything else but want to escape through weed, pills, drinking, or sleep and I've failed.

This was the price I had to pay and it had arrived earlier than I expected it to.

'It's all over.'

And I was almost relieved that I wouldn't have to beg for people to give me what I want anymore. Wouldn't have to work a shitty job just to go home and smoke. Wouldn't have to pretend I cared about my education. Pretend that I trust the people around me when in fact I'm scared of everyone and everything.

Cause before the blow would reach my skin, I already saw it coming and my brain already made that spot hurt.

I've always expected everyone to leave from the moment they've said hi. Just like my parents did because after all…everyone was and is better than me.

Because they all seemed to have something or someone. Something I lacked the guts to get. And now, I was too tired to even think about how I could've avoided all this when I've spent my entire life thinking that this should've happened after the many times I walked into strangers' houses with no backup whatsoever.

And as the constant struggle was finally reaching its end, I finally didn't want anything anymore.

Besides: 'I can finally die.'

"Corpse! Are you dozing off or what?! I'm still here. Geeze, wish me a good fucking time at least!"

I unglued my eyes and stared at Jay and his combed hair.

And I hated him so much. But it wasn't just him but everyone who somehow had what I desired. Those who walked out of their house without anxiety. Those who lived day by day without thinking if it was all a waste of time. Thinking what's the point since everyone's spot already got decided after getting born. Thinking you could never reach the top of anything unless you have the guts to risk everything or sell your soul, and even then, it might not be enough. Thinking it all hurts. It's all too much. That I can't escape them or me. And I just want to disappear.

Those were the people I wanted to kill.

But that incentive too was gone with the wind a moment after it made me inhale a bit deeper than I usually did. Because there was no point to that either.

The conclusion that I reached after the first days of shock passed was that killing someone wouldn't automatically make me gain anything.

Which is why I couldn't kill Calvin.

It made no sense to me.

Death was subtracting, not adding.

Death was inevitable, not something I wanted to cause someone else unless it was myself.

Since if there was something that I hated more than living with nothing, as nothing, or death, it was someone else taking that option away from me.

Since yes, that was something that I thought I had.

The right to take my own life whenever I wanted.

When things got too tough and there was no one else to blame but myself.

The only options were to crawl and beg for someone to help me stay alive or to end my suffering.

And now, I didn't even have that.

The hate blossomed and then hid behind my eye a second later while I was watching him watch me.

Emotions never lasted either. Cause what would me hating him get me? What could I get from all of this? At the end of the day, I kept losing what I didn't even have and now, the right to choose my poison, that too, I've lost it. What was there left to lose besides my sanity?

I wished I could choose to lose it but I could perfectly observe his features changing. That smirk told everyone that he was so proud of himself. That he's the one in control.

'But you too will die one day. Aren't you aware? Don't you care? That it's all a game that no one ever truly…ever wins at? You wake up, eat, wash, earn your food and then you die. That's fucking it!'

"Say: Have a good time, corpse." He sang sweetly and then spat in my face.

'What do you think about all day? What are you fucking doing? You get up, and look in the mirror thinking how your handsome mug will get you more people to kill?! With what right? Who the fuck are you?! Who the fuck I am?! I am not scared of you. I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING AND I NEVER WILL NOW!'

"Say it corpse!'

'And the worst part is that you can't see that you don't have anything either! These fleeting needs, emotions, and bodies. They all come and go. And I am the one who suffers in this universe because I can see how fake it all is! How is this fair?! Unless somehow you make your next day better somehow…unless what you have is all you ever wanted…then…'

"SAY IT!"

'Ah…maybe you already have everything you've ever wanted. It is just me that doesn't. I get it now. I just could never figure out what I want. Well, good for you. Enjoy it while it lasts. I will be waiting. Somewhere where your hand on my neck doesn't matter. Somewhere where everyone also has ...nothing.'

"You got moxie now that you know you're dying tomorrow? How dumb are you, corpse? I wish I had the time to explain how dumb you are but I gotta go. Busy man as always. But when I'll be back, I'll punish you until you'll beg the gang to come to get you. Don't worry, I'll call them for you."

He tied the rope around my mouth tighter after he licked one finger and touched my eye with it since he knew that hurt like hell.

'Somewhere where…. God, I hope I don't have to come back here. Please don't let reincarnation be a thing. Cause I bet, if I will be the same soul that's inside this body right now, I'll wake up with a new body and still have…nothing. Because I was never able to keep a damn person by my side for long! Never...but...almost...once.'

"Tv time, corpse."

He pressed play like aways. And the song of despair that got recorded at some point in time ensued.

'What do I do then? Will I have to just keep trying and trying until I get something? What is it even that I want? Freedom from people? Oblivion through drugs? Sleep? Death? Other…people? What?! WHAT!?"

"What?"

Cracked my neck to the left at the unusual tone but all I saw was Jay standing by the open door for a second before stepping backward. One step, two steps and I could see the fingers that were covering his face and holding his head in place.

And from the hallway, Namjoon stepped into this godforsaken room. Shutting the door with his foot before Jay stepped back sufficiently that he was near enough for me to see the blood going down his face.

Namjoon wasn't only covering his face now, he was covering his mouth with the bridge of his palm while the two other fingers were slipping under Jay's eyes.

'Wait…'

He used the other hand to scoop and then pull one and then the second one out. And they fell to the floor like two unimportant moist marbles.

I could hear Jay's screeches through Namjoon's hand, right before he backed away from the intruder some more and tripped on the chair with the laptop before me, and fell on his back.

After Namjoon closed the laptop shut with his foot, Jay didn't try to get him. He was too busy holding onto the empty holes that were his eyes and screaming bloody murder.

For some reason, now, I felt more afraid than before.

He stepped on Jay's closest body part, his ankle. The sound of bone cracking made me tremble.

Jay wanted to scream again but Namjoon's foot covered his mouth and cracked what I assumed was his jaw, teeth, or both.

Tear mixed with other fluids besides blood as he clawed at Namjoon feet.

So, like Jay, despite having one-and-a-half functioning eyes, I didn't see the knife until it was slicing Jay's neck.

When Namjoon lifted his foot, all the sound Jay could make was that of choking on his blood. The one that he told me I would be making as the blood started spilling into his stomach and filled it up, satiating any hunger pains.

Namjoon was right before me, a few steps before me.

That's why I tried screaming through the rope but Namjoon didn't spare me one glance.

It was as if I wasn't even there.

Namjoon... was grinning.

He was too enticed by the blood coming out of Jay as he stabbed him in the stomach so many times that I couldn't tell where the knife started and where Jay's bloody stomach began.

Jay's weak reaching arm was the last attempt at stopping Namjoon but all that got him was a cut on the arm. A cut is so deep that I wondered how his whole hand didn't fall off. But every time Jay tried to scream, he couldn't since I assumed Namjoon did something to his windpipe with that one cut to the throat.

And stabbed, his groin, his legs, everything but his chest until at last, he gave in to this last body part and went around it. From the sides and getting closer and closer to his heart.

I was petrified while Namjoon dug the knife into Jay's flesh and then all out.

Didn't assume there was an order to the madness until I realized that he's kept the heart last.

And kept stabbing and stabbing long after Jay's body stopped moving.

I hyperventilated quietly.

Too terrified to attract any attention to a grinning Namjoon stabbing Jay's face until he was unrecognizable.

But I couldn't look away.

For some reason, it was like observing a car crashing into something else and the explosion being so red and so magnificent that the thought to look away didn't even occur.

And when the knife was still deeply buried into Jay's skull, he untangled his bloody fingers from the knife and tore his skull open. And as if he knew that the brain would still hurt after the heart would stop beating, he shoved his hands in and did something to it that I couldn't see.

Only after that, clothes and face sprayed with Jay's blood, he twisted to the right and looked at me.

Eyes that I didn't recognize but that did recognize me.

Eyes that were overjoyed to see me.

Kim Nam-Joon rose to his feet, dripping with blood and when I thought he was going to come to me, he walked to the door and locked it.

Only then did he approach me and me alone.

When he caressed the wet rope that was tied around my mouth, I winced.

He removed every single rope but that one.

I collapsed to the floor and as he whispered: "Shh." To my crying self, as he was untangling the rope wrapped around my head. I realized her kept it last not only to calm me down but also so I don't scream and alert anyone else to what he had just done.

But all I did was cry like a child when his arms wrapped around me.

Half because of what I've gone through ever since I walked out of his dorm room, and half because of what had just happened.

"Didn't I tell you not to cheat or die?"

I nodded stupidly at the question.

"Didn't I tell you to tell me if you're in trouble even if we've broken up?"

"But…" It was hard enough to talk through my dry neck and liquid adrenaline that was making my whole body tremble. Yet, I still pushed out what was still left on my mind: "…there's more…they know my face…they'll come for me now…they…you shouldn't have come here...there's no point...now we're both dead!"

"Shh…" He caressed my head and rocked me back and forth as if the despair that was apparent on my face was not concerning in the least. Massaging my wrists and kissing my forehead, soiling me with Jay's blood as well, promising: "I'll kill them for you."

Swallowed the tears that went down my neck with terror while every nook and cranny of my body was hurting from the blood that could now freely travel. Limbs twitched and spasmed randomly while the eye was burning because of the tears that were having a hard time escaping through the cracks.

"No…there are too many…they…" I fearfully tried to explain the situation again.

"How many are there?"

"Five…six?"

"Five or six?"

"Six. Six!"

"I will kill all six for you then. Just try to breathe steadily for me, ok? In and out like, you're swimming."

"Namjoon…" I could hear the childish sob that came out of my throat as I watched Jay's bloody body behind him. But I couldn't stop it, nor move my arms.

"Yeah?"

"You've killed…"

"Yeah…don't worry about it." He casually told me.

I swiftly turned to look at his unfazed, normal gaze.

"Before today...have you. Did you…kill?"

"…sometimes."

That realization sank in the second I breathed in and didn't breathe out.

'He's like them. That's why he was enjoying making me physically hurt…Namjoon…the one person I have is nothing but another…'

And the world seemed colder. My skin felt frigid now. It was like something inside me had died but I couldn't comprehend what.

"Now, I know we have so much to talk about but I need to make a quick call…"

He dug a hand into his jacket and dialed with the phone he pulled out.

"' How did ...a... find me? How did you…"

"Sorry, what did you say? The phone was..."

"How did you find me?" I tried again.

"Oh, that. I told you it was being tracked."

"What?"

"Fred's phone. Where is it by the way?"

Ogling my eyes out, I pointed with my chin under Jay's extendable couch.

"There, huh?"

He grabbed it and stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans.

"Hi…it's me. I know you've just left but can you…come back? I got another job for you...aa…where? Aa…I can't come to get you…mmm…first building. The second floor…. I'll wave. Yeah. Thanks. That, bring it. And your phone. The other…one. Yes. See you."

"Who…who's coming?"

"Roxy."

"Why is Roxy... near?"

"She drove me. Look, I'll fill you in on the details later. Now, we need to get that eye cleaned and your ear…and…your legs…man, I saw the eye as soon as he opened the door so that's why I got his eyes first but now I want to hit the fucker again but I don't think he'll feel it."

I swallowed. Watching him get angrier and angrier the more he inspected my body. Not thinking about how he was undressing me in the process, while he was trying to hold the newfound frustrations in.

'You didn't look at me or pause before you started killing him…systematically, to keep him feeling everything? What were you so mad about before then? If you didn't even see most of it? And how could you not...did you just see nothing but the ropes and... still..'

"Maybe the fucker got some disinfectant laying around."

He started looking around while I stared at the bat, and Namjoon's turned back.

'Namjoon's like them. Isn't he? All this time…it was all the same thing? Wasn't it?'

Moments later, when rubbing alcohol and napkins were dropped next to me, I could finally feel the pain in all my limbs but my entire attention was focused on the murderer that was trying to help me.

Namjoon's opened the door and stuck out his hand covered in a clean t-shirt five minutes later. And then shut it.

Not a minute later, Roxy came through holding a big sparkly white bag. She locked the door.

Looked at me and then at Jay.

"Good to see you…Jungkook." She said nervously.

I didn't know what to say back when Namjoon resumed disinfecting and cleaning up dried blood. I didn't know what to say while I stared at Roxy cleaning the knife and the floor. Looking for every drop of blood that might've flown around while Jay was getting stabbed. Pulling up weird bottles and rugs from that bag. Even going as far as to say: "Nice eyes." When she picked them up from the floor and shoved them inside a plastic container.

"Call the second cleaning team," Namjoon ordered her while I trembled and tried not to cry from his first aid.

"Consider it done but…do you have any idea what you're doing?"

"Keeping infection at bay. Do you know a doctor too? A real one?"

"No…but I can ask Fred."

"Ask him."

"Do I tell him about...?"

"I think he'd already figured something was up when I told him to give me Jungkook's location. So don't let any more phone traces cause our phones can't be listened to even if we still talk in code as the last protection measure, but yours…I don't trust."

"Mine can't be…"

"I will tell him in person." He spat. She lowered her head and called. And kept talking while wiping Jay's blood.

I couldn't blink. I couldn't do anything but breathe raggedly.

Feeling small. Feeling afraid. Feeling not saved.

"Jungkook? Look at me."

I didn't.

"I know that seeing me like that must've scared you but I'd never hurt you. Or anyone that …I didn't have to. But he's hurt you. He…I couldn't keep calm. I am sorry. I shouldn't have let you see…"

He kept talking. Roxy kept talking. Smiling. Composed. And I felt like something in my brain has burst.

"…I didn't enjoy it either."

'Then why were you smiling?' I thought.

"I wanted to save you."

'Then why didn't you just take me and left?'

"I was worried, angry, and…"

"Namjoon?" I asked.

"Hmm?"

"How many people did you kill?"

"Not many…Why?"

'How many is a lot for you?" I thought.

"For what reasons?" I inquired.

"It's…part of my job." He admitted.

He scratched the back of his head and I just stared with one good eye, not believing what I had just heard.

"They're coming at night or else other students might…see a lot of sketchy people carrying bags and stuff and they might put two and two together. After you know," She pointed at Jay, " they'll notice he's gone. But the doctor will be here in like one hour or so."

"Thanks."

"No problem, but you two should change clothes until then. They'll put the ones you have on in a chemical that pretty much makes the blood lose all its…" She kept talking for a while.

'Shut up.'

"Jungkook, can you lift your…" Namjoon talked.

'Shut up.'

"I think he's in shock." Roxy assumed.

"Who knows what the heck that fucker did to him…"

'Shut up. Everyone shut the hell up!'

I covered my ears which made the one that was already hurting, hurt more and I kept them covered while Namjoon tried to pry them away with force.

"Hey…look at me. What's wrong? Jungkook, what did he do to you? Why are you…"

"Shut up."

"What?"

"You're just a murderer…like him…you're…"

I could feel myself welling up but then the pain was far too great to cry about when Namjoon's laughter echoed in the otherwise silent room.

Looked up in disbelief but the corners of his lips were still stretched upwards.

"You think all murderers are the same?" He asked, sounding amused.

"It doesn't matter if you kill children or old ladies, Namjoon! You're both taking people's lives!"

"Really? It doesn't matter if that person attacks you or not? If that person's kidnapped someone you love? It really doesn't matter? it makes no difference for you?"

"Still! You didn't kill only him, you've killed…"

"I had to kill!" He screamed. Smile gone.

"No, you didn't!"

"HOW THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW? I'LL TELL YOU! YOU KNOW NOTHING! NOTHING! YOUR PARENT'S BEEN PAYING YOUR BILLS EVER SINCE YOU WERE BORN. THEY FED AND CLOTHED YOU, AND THEY ARE STILL DOING IT!"

"SO WHAT?!"

"Guys…stop screaming or someone might come to check."

Namjoon shut his eyes for a moment. And then went on, lowering his volume but not the bite of the words:

"So what? Really? I had to do it to survive. There was no other choice at that age. No one wanted to hire me but a drug dealer. NO ONE! No one cared if I would've died on the streets. I deserved it because my mom was a junkie and my dad was married to that junkie. In the eyes of that whole fucking small town, we all deserved to die!"

"…your mom...your... What?"

"Only Fred cared about me Jungkook. And he didn't tell me to kill anyone at first." Namjoon smirked. "But I had to or else I would've been killed. Since no child is taken seriously unless they can shoot a gun. No child can go around murderers and rapists and not get sold into fucking slavery unless they don't look like they can't be taken advantage of! I had to toughen up and do it! To survive! And then...grandma couldn't move anymore so I needed more money cause keeping someone alive against the will of their body costs money. Not only that. Burying someone costs money too!"

"Namjoon…" I whispered feeling tears coming out from both eyes. They both stung now.

"Not like this privileged motherfucker here! Who had a choice! I didn't do it for fun. So don't tell me every murderer is the same! Cause the only thing I enjoy is seeing them suffer a morsel of the pain that my father has gone through! Yes! That I enjoy and if that makes me the same as them, then so be it! But can you fucking lift your arms so I can clean your wounds and change you before we will both go to jail for fucking surviving because the law doesn't give a fuck for victims with drugs in their system who fight for themselves even if cops never arrive on time?! CAN YOU?"

"...yes…"

"Good."

I shut my eyes. Unable to look at his furrowed brows any longer.

Felt him patting every cut and bruise. Heard Roxy brushing the floors and cleaning pretty much the whole room. I heard and felt a lot but refused to look.

The doctor arrived sooner than I expected him to and he was dressed like a student would probably dress if he was color-blind. His face however was nowhere near the age a student would have.

He left Namjoon a list of medicine after he finished sticking stuff where it hurt most. Applying creams and liquids. Injecting me with stuff. Cleaning some more and sighting excessively.

When the sun was down, we were both wearing Jay's clothes and the three of us were dead silent when the cleaning team finally arrived to dismember Jay part by part to make him fit into bags.

At that point, I told them to take Jay's laptop too.

By the time they've all left after Namjoon told them to come back tomorrow night after he's heard about Jay's plan to take me to the forest where his gang was going kill me, I panicked but didn't say a word.

"I don't know exactly where but I will turn on Jungkook's phone so Fred can give you the exact location." He told a guy who I assumed was the head of the cleaners or something along those lines.

"Understood."

"Thanks."

"Who'll pay us?" The guy asked.

"Fred," Namjoon answered with a sly smirk.

"When?"

"Ask Fred."

Namjoon grinned, as the man dressed in black raised an eyebrow.

"You're Fred's Monster, aren't you?"

"Yea. Why? Did he send you a picture of my face or something?"

"No…but no one's ever told me to call Him. And so…nonchalantly too. And also, your work is most often than not...well, hard to clean. That aside, are you telling me he'll pay for this? Wasn't this personal?"

Namjoon patted his shoulder and kept grinning.

"I hope tomorrow is the last time we'll have to see each other, Arthur."

"I prefer that you don't address me by my…"

"But Arthur, this was personal. So, there's no need to be so professional about it. Now…call Fred and ups. The eyes. Roxy?"

She handed it to him pouting as if she didn't want to give them her souvenir.

"You truly hated this young man, didn't you?" The man asked Namjoon while he was staring at the two eyes.

"Hate? Nah. More like…hm…that doesn't come close to what I was feeling but I guess it describes half of it."

"Obviously. Well, I'll call Fred and we'll see you tomorrow."

"Pleasure doing personal business with you."

"Right…"

And they were gone. The room looked like nothing had ever happened there. Our clothes were clean and every single wound I had was covered. Or stitched. My eye too had a bandage over it.

Still, whatever painkillers the doctor injected had left me only sleepy enough to not feel the stinging of every cut but not sleepy enough to fall asleep.

"Jungkook?"

"…"

"Are you asleep?"

For a moment, my brain thought Jay was asking that so I opened my eyes wide which caused the one that was closed shut and swollen to hurt that much more. I reached my hand to cover it when I remembered that the doctor told me not to touch it at all.

"No…" I mumbled.

I let my hand fall.

"We need to go back to our room while it's still night."

'Tae...oh no, I forgot about Taehyung…' I thought with newfound desperation.

"I think it's better we go to my room since V shouldn't see you like this. Jimin however will listen to me if I tell him to go sleep somewhere else."

I was glad to hear all of that.

"But first, before Roxy leaves, you need to tell me what kinds of weapons those guys have?"

"Huh?" I blurted out.

"Guns?" He asked.

I nodded.

"How many did you see?"

"Two?" I asked him.

"Knives?" He continued asking while the whole room seemed blurrier than before.

"Sure."

"Anything else?"

'Like what, a grenade?' I thought, slightly outraged.

I shook my head.

"Okay. Roxy, you claimed to have some skills?"

"Of course." One hand on each hip, she proudly added, "Mama raised no fool."

"See you tomorrow then."

"What time?"

Namjoon turned to look at me. I shrugged.

"No clue…I just know Jay was supposed to take me to the forest tomorrow night. But that can be at ten PM or two AM, so I don't know."

Namjoon squatted before me.

"Did you go between ten and eleven PM to get your drugs?"

"Yes."

"Did you leave when they started killing?"

"Yes…"

"So at what time should the one who's going to be killed make an appearance?"

"Around midnight but last time the woman was already there when I arrived." I deadpanned.

"Were you late?" He asked without batting an eye.

I thought about it and sighed, saying:

"Yeah...probably."

"See ya'll before eleven then," Roxy told us and waved at me with a smile from behind Namjoon, and when I didn't reciprocate, her hand fell by her body and the smile faded. Walking out in her short skirt, holding the still immaculate white bag.

"Can you get up?"

"Why am I sitting on plastic, by the way?" I asked with clear frustration at the sounds it was making.

"Can't leave no traces…"

"..."

I tried to get up but that only made everything hurt.

"Can't."

He carried me out. Wearing plastic on the bottom of his shoes and making me carry the plastic sheet I've been sitting on in my lap. He took one more look around before he shut the door.

'I need to make him change his mind.' That's all I could think about while we walked out in silence but when the cold air of the night and the moon showed themselves on the horizon.

"Did you already talk to Jimin?" I asked.

"Mhm."

"And what did you tell him?"

"That he should go sleep someplace else."

"Because?"

"I'm coming?"

"And he just left?"

"Why do I sense disbelief?"

"Namjoon…"

"Yeah?"

"About what I said…"

"Forget it."

"I now understand there's a difference but you're still taking someone's life at the end of the day."

He stopped dead in his tracks.

"That's it?"

"And everything you've said, I get it...a bit, but I don't think I can process it right now. I don't think I can understand how you'd kill other people and not feel like…killing others as well."

He resumed walking.

"Hmm…do you ever get a craving for vegetables?"

"…. no."

"It's the same thing. You only eat them when you have to."

"I don't think it's the…same."

"Not exactly. But it's got the same exact same feeling to it. Obligation."

"But Jay wasn't an obligation…"

"Really? I didn't have to kill him to make sure he doesn't kill you?"

"He could've been locked in jail…"

"And you'd be in the other jail if anyone would've found out drugs were involved. After all, you've bought from him."

"He's not the dealer…"

"Doesn't matter. The chemicals in your blood are still…evidence enough. The facts don't matter."

"I am... sorry."

"For what?"

"I am not sure…"

He lifted me a bit as if he's been holding me at an uncomfortable angle before so I tried to hold onto his neck tighter but my muscles were not cooperating whatsoever.

"Hiding it?" He assumed.

"No. I had to. I was afraid he'll hurt you…"

Namjoon started laughing.

"I'm not kidding!"

"I know you're not but that's hilarious to me." He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Then why are you sorry?"

"For being the way I am…"

"Someone who can't cope with the world sober?" He resumed it for me.

"I think so."

"That's fine. I can't cope with it either. Now we have another chance to not cope with it together."

He smiled and I tried to smile but as we were entering his building, I felt so small in his arms. And after that sentimental line, I couldn't stop myself from saying:

"What are you talking about? We're both going die tomorrow now..."

I heard it. The crack in my voice. The clear fear. And I wondered if he's heard it when he peeked down at me for one second and back up at the one guy that was standing in the hallway.

"Bambi, I told you to go some…"

"Jungkook? That's Jungkook?!"

We both shushed him.

"What happened to you? Your eye…your…why can't you walk…what?"

Namjoon sighed.

"Open the door."

"What?"

"The door Bambi. If you're still here, at least make yourself useful."

A scowl appeared on Jimin's face but which he replaced with worry as he switched his focus from Namjoon's face to mine.

"Why didn't you listen to me?" Namjoon reprimanded him.

"I'm not technically in the room, am I?" Jimin pointed at his head like he was emphasizing how smart he was for thinking of this loophole.

And all I could see was Jay's head getting split in half.

"You're not in someone else's room either, are you?" Namjoon argued.

I was laid down in Jimin's bed slowly while Jimin, himself, jumped around with too much energy. Saying:

"I haven't seen you in such a long time. I was worried…but you look fine…Jungkook, though..."

"He'll be fine. Now go away." Namjoon snapped.

"You didn't call for weeks. I didn't even know if you were still alive and this is how you greet me?"

"Exactly. I would've been nicer if I would've seen you in a few days."

"Where were you?!" He asked, obviously upset.

"Home. Now can you let us sleep? We've had a long…day and I'd like for it to end."

Namjoon expelled air and crossed his arms.

Jimin copied him on purpose.

It would've been funny if half of me didn't know how to sit beside a murderer and not feel like losing my mind.

"Tell me what's happened and I will go."

"Isn't it obvious? Jungkook got beat up because he tried to find me. Fine? Happy?"

"Where were you?"

"Didn't I tell you I used to be a dealer?"

"Didn't you quit?" Jimin called on his bluff with one eyebrow raised.

"I did. But some people wanted to get me killed when I was visiting someone else."

The lie came through his lips so casually that I was surprised how well Namjoon could lie in the heat of the moment like that. Jimin backed off and seemed to have believed him. I would've believed him too since I had disappeared just like Namjoon did so it kind of made sense since Jimin knew we used to be in a relationship. It all made sense…but it wasn't true.

"Then it's your fault that Jungkook's lost one eye?"

"He didn't lose his eye! A doctor has..."

"It's my fault."

Namjoon turned to look at me when Jimin did too.

"He told me not to get involved. But I did. It's not his fault."

Jimin shook his head but headed towards the door nonetheless.

"See you guys tomorrow then."

"See you in a week!" Namjoon whisper-screamed at the closing door.

We both knew he'd be back tomorrow.

"And you thought he'd just listen to whatever you're saying…" I mumbled ironically to Namjoon.

The door opened to show Jimin's smiling face through the crack, saying: "Welcome back roomie."

Namjoon threw the nearest pillow at where Jimin's face used to be but Jimin shut the door faster.

He's probably left but we kept glancing at the now, locked door every so often.

"Does it hurt?" Namjoon asked, legs crossed on the opposite bed.

"The eye? Not so much anymore. Whatever drugs he gave me, they're good."

"And…the rest?"

"I'm telling you...it's all numb…"

"I will get you everything the doctor prescribed tomorrow."

"…thank you…"

"Did he…do anything else?"

"Like…?"

He titled the head that was against the wall and said the words:

"…rape you?"

"Not…really?"

"What is almost rape?"

"…a blowjob."

"Sorry…"

"Why are you apologizing?"

"I should've sensed something was off."

"How?"

His downcast look had me confused. But there was also something else that was making my chest warm. And it wasn't anything good.

"I don't know…how did you get into this mess in the first place anyway?"

"I wanted …some weed. And I went to a party and he told me he'll escort me to his dealer." I confessed quietly.

"And he didn't want money from you?"

"Oh, his cousin? He...he wanted money. But he also wanted me to hide his drugs in my room so he wouldn't get caught with all of it in case he got busted or something."

"And you said yes?"

"And I said yes."

"Tell me you didn't use it all and that's how the fucker turned on you." Namjoon rubbed his temples thinking about that scenario.

"No…I…they wanted me to do other stuff…"

"Like what?"

"Like you…but not like you."

"Deal?"

"No... the other one," I whispered.

"Who did they want you to kill?" He asked sounding very puzzled but I didn't dare to look at his face.

"Anyone. Because I told them I enjoyed it. Or thought I would..."

"You told them you'd enjoy it?"

"I had to."

"And did you?"

That question hung in the air for a bit before I admitted:

"I couldn't do it." I lightly shrugged, "I even helped the guy that I was supposed to kill escape. And that's when…Jay turned on me."

"Hmm. And why didn't that guy call the police?"

"Because he didn't make it out of the forest…since Jay shoot him."

A brief pause was filled with Namjoon saying:

"…that's unfortunate."

"That's very…unfortunate…" I repeated, swallowing at the memory that was still fresh in my mind.

And I burst into tears thinking of the guy who had died because of me. And I tried to stop it when Namjoon walked up to my bed to hug me. I tried because I didn't want to be touched but I couldn't control my emotions. Even if one of the eyes was not agreeing with the salty tears at all.

"It's not your fault, Jungkook."

"It is…It didn't have to be him. But it was him because of me."

"I am sure they would've killed him anyway if that's what they did for fun."

"They would've killed someone else…but not him. They never killed men!" I spat that information in his face.

"Why not?"

"Because they couldn't fuck them while they tortured them to death!" I shouted into his shoulder while he kept whispering "Shh."

"Or after they'd die..." I whispered to myself.

"Man or woman. Someone would've died. And if you think about it, at least the guy didn't die while getting other stuff done to him. So, you did all you …could."

"I didn't do shit…"

"It's fine. We'll get them, you and I." He assured me with a soft smile.

"H…how?"

"Tomorrow, you'll see. Because of you, no one else will die by their hand. Isn't that great?"

He grinned encouragingly, while I kept shaking my head.

"If you think about it, in the long run, you've done more good than bad…" He went on.

"Namjoon, let's just run." I cried out.

"We can't do that." He caressed the side of my dirty hair with a sad smile.

"They'll kill you. Please...let's just go."

He shook his head as if he didn't know what I was talking about.

"It's one against six," I argued.

He raised one finger immediately.

"Two against six. Roxy is..."

I interrupted him.

"It doesn't matter, we're outnumbered either way. I can't do anything and they'll kill you as soon as they spot you cause no one else goes that deep into the forest…"

"No, they won't. Listen to me. I'll think of something and we'll get them. I won't get hurt. Roxy won't get hurt. And more importantly, you won't get hurt."

"How can you say that?! You don't know them!"

"Shh…" I slapped the hand that was caressing my head.

"They mutilate, hang and burn people! They do this so often and they have guns and…"

And then it came back, the mental picture my mind took of him stabbing Jay repeatedly while he was grinning from one ear to another. My mind tried to focus on the shadow behind the two of them but Namjoon's shadow was doing the exact same thing.

"We'll have weapons too." He reminded me.

"But…no…you can't die because of me. I won't tell you where they are!"

I turned swiftly and stared at the wall. He sighed. And I wanted to slap myself for moving so fast.

'When the drugs will wear off...it'll feel like hell again...' I thought to myself.

"I can just go inside that forest for the next week and I will find them on my own."

I uncrossed my arms and resumed sobbing since I couldn't imagine that his threat was empty.

He back hugged me and kissed my wet cheek.

"Don't…please, don't do anything, Namjoon. Stay here. I will stay here. I'll never leave and if they'll shoot me through the door then I deserve it."

"That's not how university life should be like." He argued with an audible smile.

"Who cares about that…?"

"I do. I care. So, if you just listen to me…"

"You haven't seen them, Namjoon! You haven't seen what…" I shouted.

"And you haven't seen me. You don't know what I am capable of. I don't need six people. I don't need anything." He calmly told me.

"If they shoot you then it doesn't matter how skilled you are with a knife..."

"They won't shoot me!" He snapped but still held me tight when I tried to turn to look at him saying an exhausted, anxious, furious:

"Why not?!"

"Because they'll be too busy listening to you."