Archive of Our Own ^beta

Additional warnings that didn"t make it into the tags:

Choking 

Jk being absolutely hilarious??

Jimin is lowkey so relatable?

Mention of German bread (because I"m German)

Idk what possessed me to write this 

#thisissofilthy

The sex scene is absolutely unrealistic, but this is fiction, so I chose to ignore that 

Possibly my favorite jk I"ve ever written 

Moodboard by my sexy friend Milo

"Hell is empty and all the devils are here."

–William Shakespeare  

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

The most important (and probably the only) thing Jimin learned from his emotionally neglective and chronically absent mother is that a made bed is a good bed, a comfortable bed, a bed you actually want to sleep in. 

So he diligently makes his bed before he leaves that evening. He just changed his sheets this morning so the scent of laundry detergent fills his nose as he arranges the pillows and folds the fluffy blanket he keeps at the end of his bed. He smiles to himself when finished, takes a step back and admires his work for a moment. 

Even when his entire apartment is a mess, at least his bed will be organized and inviting-looking when he comes back in five days. He lets out a long sigh before leaving his bedroom and closing the door behind him quietly. He"s all alone–has been alone in this 2-room-apartment since the very start–but he still hasn"t been able to rid himself of the habit to be quiet at all costs no matter what he"s doing. The remnants of living together with parents who scream at you for any small mistake or annoyance and later on, the remnants of living with grandparents who wake easily and sleep as much as cats. 

He sets an alarm on his phone to water his plants right away when he comes back. Regret washes over him; he really should have cleaned the apartment before leaving. Isn"t that what people do when they leave for more than two days? Shouldn"t you think in advance and prepare for your inevitable return? After all, no one wants to return to a messy apartment. 

A living space should be clean–more wise words from his mother. Sadly, Jimin was never able to follow that advice for longer than a few days at a time. After those few short days, the mess always returned. 

Whatever. This is a problem he can think of when he comes back. Today is Monday and he will be back by Saturday. So, on Sunday, after shedding off his travels with a nice rest, he can clean. 

Jimin nods to himself, thinking this is a fairly responsible plan. He grabs his keys and pulls his suitcase after him. Should he lock the door when he leaves? He never really does, he doubts anyone would ever try to break into his apartment. They wouldn"t find anything useful in this mess anyway. There"s jewelry in his bathroom–family heirlooms he finds hideous, gold was never really his color–and a semi-expensive painting hangs over his couch, but all in all he"s as broke as any college student trying to finish his master’s degree. God, it feels like he"s been studying for an eternity. One more semester. Next year at this exact date, he will have his degree and hopefully a well paying corporate job. He didn"t study accounting and marketing for nothing. 

Just a few more days of writing this dull and boring master"s thesis and then he"ll be free from the shackles of institutional education. He can finish this year with a relieved mind. And next year, he can go and find a nice 9-to-5 job, jumping into yet another system. But that"s all he needs, all he desires. 

Well, if he ever desired anything, that is. 

Sometimes, when the days are long and the nights even longer, Jimin allows himself to dream–only to realize that he has no dreams inside of him, nothing that keeps him motivated or inspired. How has he made it this far? At this point, he really thinks it’s just because there’s nothing else to do. 

And giving up seems even weaker than having no dreams. 

But this isn’t something he"ll ever say out loud. 

A feeling of shallow resentment fills him when he finally pulls the front door of his shabby apartment shut behind him and immediately locks it once, twice–even though he never did so before. He hates returning to this apartment in the evening after his classes, one of his frustrating part-time jobs, or a long day in the uni-library. 

It’s the worst and simultaneously best part of the day. At home, he’s confronted with himself and his flaws and faults. He sees them lingering and lurking in every corner and it makes him crazy. But it’s also the place where he feels the most at ease.

Here, he can struggle. He can cry out of frustration–although he hasn"t been able to shed a tear in fucking forever–he can sing along to songs, complain loudly about characters in movies. Here, he is alive. 

Outside of his apartment, he is not. In public, he’s a walking corpse. 

What do people think of him? Well, he assumes they don"t think much since he does his best to not make people conscious of him. He disappears in the crowd, blends in and stays inconspicuous. So, no, people don"t think about him at all. At least he hopes so. It would be better if they didn"t. 

This is exactly why he needs to leave his damned apartment for a few days. A change of environment should be triggering for character growth but for Jimin it always achieved the opposite; it usually just sets him under pressure and he gets overwhelmed. 

He likes it when things stay the same and still, paradoxically so, he constantly longs for change in his life. What a dilemma, right? 

The decision to finish his thesis in his family"s cabin outside of the city, right in the middle of nowhere, surprisingly came easy. After all, no one resembling a human being would be there. Jimin would have the cabin, the little porch, and the nice lake attached to it, all for himself. And even though he picked the wrong season and wished it was spring or early summer and not the beginning of December, he still looks forward to it. 

It will be a nice detox from his dull, unfulfilling life. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Jimin is screaming the lyrics to some horrible EDM version of All I Want For Christmas Is You and for a moment he regrets nothing about this trip. 

This is the most spontaneous thing in the last five years. He can"t believe he’s actually about to do it. Even if the main goal is to do some academic work, it still feels like a vacation. 

He isn’t even sure if he can call this spontaneous since he planned this three weeks ahead. Spontaneous would be like...one day before? 

Whatever, this is what he considers spontaneous–

There"s a loud sound, then his car tips to the right. Jimin yelps in surprise, the EDM music suddenly too distracting and disruptive. Why does it feel like he"s losing control of the car? What is happening? 

With his heart pounding, he steers the car to the right and slows down. Once he’s stopped, he immediately climbs out, heart racing, fingers shaking as they close the door. He ignores the fact that it’s freezing cold outside and he"s not wearing his jacket. 

When he sees what caused the startling noise and the car to drive weirdly, all his previous excitement about this trip subsides at once. 

“This is why I don"t do spontaneous stuff,” he mumbles under his breath, staring at the flatness that has miraculously occurred on his front left tire. 

For a long, torturous moment, he stares at the flat tire, mentally cursing himself and regretting his life choices. Everything was going so well, he shouldn"t let a flat tire ruin it all. 

Sighing–and scrambling together the last bits of positivity and optimism he can find in himself–he pulls out his phone and googles a local road assistance company. He has an extra tire in his trunk, but he has absolutely no clue how to change it. And a YouTube tutorial won"t help him if he doesn"t have the necessary tools. 

The man on the phone tells Jimin someone could come to help him but it would take a while since he"s already quite far away from civilization. And it"s pretty late, not many people are working. Fine, Jimin says, as long as he’s not going to be stranded here. He can wait for a while, that"s totally cool. 

He doesn"t get easily scared, but an uncomfortable feeling spreads in his stomach the longer he waits. After one hour he really begins to feel queasy. He’s a rational person; he knows he"d definitely survive a night in his car, or a few more hours. If it came down to it, he"d also survive a walk back into town. Even if it would take multiple hours. 

He’s not delusional, overthinking this will only make him anxious. He just has to remain calm. That"s all. 

Jimin eats cheeseballs as he waits. Thank God he brought groceries with him. That makes him feel more at ease in this unarguably shitty situation. 

But Jimin"s emotional capacity reached its limit back when he reached adulthood, and it"s been hard to feel more than an occasional burst of anger or sadness here and there. Happiness is the most seldom, but who"s surprised? 

He feels utterly alone and isolated as he waits for the stupid road assistance company to arrive. He feels deserted–quite literally–like he left a part of himself in the city and only took the minimum of himself with him. 

After an eternity, he sees the distant shimmer of headlights. Relieved, he steps out of his car and waits at the side of the road to make the car notice him. Would be bad if the guy just drove past him, right? 

So Jimin waves when the car is close. He even smiles a little–this is supposed to be his savior, after all. Being nice won"t hurt. 

The car immediately slows down, stopping right in front of Jimin. But it doesn"t park at the side of the road, it stays right in the middle as if it didn"t expect anyone else to drive by for a while. 

“Hi, are–” Jimin falls silent out of surprise when the window of the car slides down. 

“You- you"re not the road assistance, are you?” he asks, a little perplexed. 

A relatively young guy is sitting in the passenger seat. His hair falls over his forehead in a soft brown and he’s wearing glasses. “Sorry, no. Are you in need of help?”

Jimin scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “My car has a flat tire.”

The brown haired guy looks at the driver–another guy, probably in his twenties. They have to be around Jimin"s age. 

“Hyungseok,” the brown haired guy addresses the driver. “Don"t you know how to change a tire?”

Jimin doesn"t hear the answer, but the brown haired guy sticks his head out of the window again and says, “Don"t worry, we"ll help you.”

Jimin feels his face getting hot–is it because of the cold or the fact that he feels weird accepting help from strangers?

“You don"t have to. I mean– I really appreciate the offer, that"s so kind of you, but I already called the road assistance company–”

The guy waves in dismissal. “Ah, by the time they"ll get here, you could already be on your way again. Just give them another call and say you found another way to fix the problem.”

Jimin swallows thickly. “But–”

“I’m Minsoo,” the brown haired guy says. “Me and my friend over there live around here, but I"m guessing you don"t?”

“Uh, no,” Jimin says. Isn"t that obvious? Who would choose to live around here? 

“Yeah, that"s what I thought,” Minsoo sighs. “You gotta be careful driving alone at night here.”

Jimin"s stomach churns. “What– what do you mean by that?”

Minsoo groans graciously before opening the car door with a click. Once he’s outside, smiling in an oddly bright manner at Jimin, he says, “Because of deers. And other wildlife. Lots of accidents occur because of them. They run in front of cars; the suicidal bunch, I swear to God.”

Jimin nods awkwardly. “Ah, deers… Right.”

"Yes," Minsoo says, propping his elbows at his waist. "Let"s take a look at your flat tire, hm? It"s getting cold. Would be best to get it done quickly."

"Oh, yeah–" Jimin falls silent for a moment. The driver–Hyungseok, was that the name?–steps out and comes walking around the front of the car. He"s tall–taller than Jimin anyway–and he"s wearing a black leather jacket. He gives Jimin a curt nod but stays silent. 

"So, my flat tire, uhm..." He points at the tire in question and gives a little shrug. "I don"t know how it happened. I was driving and it just… happened."

How very eloquent of you, Jimin.  

"Ah, I see," Minsoo says, sounding understanding. "Let"s fix it, eh?" 

Jimin smiles in gratitude. He really tries to appear friendly but his social skills resemble a freaking raisin; they"re rusty and dried out. "That would be awesome."

Hyungseok strides forward wordlessly, passing by Minsoo and Jimin. He crouches down and looks at the flat tire. He seems to be inspecting the thing before he looks up and gives Minsoo a small nod. 

"He can fix it," Minsoo says happily, apparently speaking for Hyungseok. "I should get the tools."

"Oh, really? That"s amazing, oh my God, thank you so much–" Jimin rambles some more courtesies and then fishes his phone out of his pocket. "I"m gonna call the road assistant and let him know he doesn"t have to come. Hopefully he isn"t close yet."

"Yeah, that would suck for him," Minsoo agrees, shaking his head. 

"Do you need help getting the tools… ?" Jimin asks. 

Minsoo waves him off. "Nah, I"ll get them."

Jimin laughs nervously. This is really the weirdest and yet luckiest encounter he ever made. Who would have thought he"d be getting help from strangers in the middle of nowhere at 11pm? 

Jimin stands awkwardly to the side after calling the road assistant–who wasn"t even on his way yet fortunately. 

Hyungseok starts getting to work and Minsoo helps him. Jimin tries to insert himself into the enterprise as well, but he’s quite useless. He does make idle conversation with Minsoo; he finds out that the two live on neighboring farms and have known each other since childhood. He tells them his family owns a cabin no one really uses. He mentions he wants to stay for a few days (he doesn’t say the exact date) and work on something important (he also doesn"t mention it"s his thesis). 

Jimin thinks Minsoo is quite nice, albeit a bit too…loud. A bit too friendly. Does that make sense? Usually, Jimin would be more drawn to people like Hyungseok–people who are mysterious and withdrawn–but Hyungseok is too quiet. In fact, he doesn"t say more than three words the entire time. 

Jimin offers them something to drink and some snacks out of guilt. After thirty minutes, Hyungseok grunts something unintelligible and Minsoo translates for him once again.

He sends Jimin a smile. “He’s almost done–” 

Suddenly, his eyes widen as he looks at something over Jimin"s shoulder. His expression changes in a split second–it goes from relieved to confused to concerned. “Oh? I thought you were sleeping?”

Jimin frowns. Who is he talking to? Then he hears footsteps and he"s about to turn around when–

Something hits his head with a loud thump, making his ears immediately ring. His eyes feel like they pop out of their sockets from the harsh impact. A second later, his cheek collides with the asphalt, the smell of dirt, gas and night air mingling together to fill his senses. 

Everything is spinning and Jimin outright feels his consciousness slipping away–like touching an object while your hands are covered in oil. Like trying to catch air with your bare hands. 

“Fuck–” someone calls out. Was that Minsoo? “We already have enough! Why did you do that?”

“There can never be enough,” someone retorts coldly. Someone that isn"t Hyungseok or Minsoo. His voice is monotone. Frightening. "I want him too," he says blankly. 

Jimin feels his ankles getting grabbed and then with a jolt, he starts moving. A stifled groan leaves his mouth. Something warm trickles down his temple. His heart is pounding like it"s going to implode. He gets pulled over the asphalt like a ragdoll, skin scraping off his bones like wood from sandpaper. 

“Can"t wait to see what you"re made of,” that unfamiliar someone hisses before everything goes dark.

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Jimin smells urine when he opens his eyes. 

He sees absolutely nothing. 

And his head hurts. So bad. Oh God, this is like that one time where he accidentally ran against a pole on a drunken night out and had a mild concussion. He also had the biggest blue eye ever, but let’s not get into detail here. 

Jimin groans, touching his skull. Did he manage to hit his head somewhere during the night? He would not be surprised if he woke up to drink some water and clumsily tripped and fell on his head. But why does it smell so pungently like pee, sweat and indescribably disgusting body odor? He also smells… animals? 

He covers his face. Groans one more time. Okay, focus. He has to get up. What time is it? It has to be night, otherwise it wouldn"t be so dark, right? 

Why does everything hurt so much? 

He has to muster up all his willpower to pull his torso up into a sitting position. From there on, he can get in a few deep breaths, head lolling. He"s dizzy. His throat is dry. The appalling scent still hasn’t left his nose. 

But he remembers where he is. Or is supposed to be. He was on his way to the cabin, but then… 

A splitting headache makes him pull his face into a grimace. Why can"t he remember what happened? 

Did a wild animal piss on him, or what? 

Jimin blinks, breathing in and out in a poorly controlled manner. He has to get control over his body. His eyes haven"t gotten used to the dark yet. Is his car here somewhere? He has a blanket in his trunk, and he really needs it now. Fuck, he’s freezing. His teeth begin to clatter as if on command, and Jimin rubs his arms with both hands. 

Something is wrong . The thought slams into him with a wave of new emotions; his heart begins to beat faster, picking up on his oncoming panic first. His body knew something was wrong before Jimin"s mind was able to process the situation. 

His breath hitches. 

He listens closely to his surroundings, trying to calm his breathing. 

Why is it so quiet? Why is it so goddamn silent? He should be outside in the wilderness, lying on the asphalt of the street where his stupid, unreliable car decided to have a flat tire. He should be hearing the cicadas and other animals rummaging through the forest close to the highway. He should smell the scent of nature and night. 

There are no sounds or scents like that. 

Instead, he hears soft breathing. And it’s not his own. He hears limbs moving, bodies shuffling. 

Oh no . 

Oh no no no.  

And then he remembers. 

Two men who wanted to help him and then an unknown third one whom he didn"t see coming, only heard his cold, detached voice, and who hit his head with something very hard, dragged him over the ground–

Struck by fear, Jimin immediately tries to get a sense of his surroundings. His hands fly out to touch the floor–no, the soft, slightly wet ground–he’s sitting on. What is this? Is this– hay?  

The reality begins to sink in. He’s definitely no longer on the highway. He’s somewhere else. Somewhere he doesn"t want to be. 

Is it the concussion that stops him from full-on panicking? Or is it the absurdity of this situation? 

He has to be dreaming. 

If not, then–

The touch of something cold against his arm makes him flinch, then yelp, then crawl away blindly. 

“Hey, wait–” someone says. 

Okay, perhaps his panic attack only had to be triggered by something–in this case by someone touching him. 

A sharp pain flashes through his temple and a second later, Jimin is out like a light. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

His head still hurts. Really bad. His throat hurts even more; it"s extremely dry. When he swallows it feels like needles pierce his throat. 

However, his mind is clearer now, his nervous system is alert. 

Jimin jolts up abruptly. 

When he opens his eyes, he looks at a blinding light. No darkness anymore. But who said light is any better? 

A single light bulb is dangling from the ceiling. A ceiling that is covered by metal bars. Wait, no . He just can"t see the ceiling because–

Because he is in a cage. 

He"s in a fucking cage. 

Jimin"s chest tightens on command and his head whips around. Is this how animals feel when they get captured? The memory of his cat, Pamuk, that died when he was nine resurfaces, and he remembers one fateful afternoon where his father had to take Pamuk to the vet and Jimin threw a tantrum because the thought of Pamuk in that small cage was horrifying. 

He feels like reliving some strange, twisted déjà vu. The only difference is that he"s the one in the cage now. He switched places with Pamuk. 

His vision has turned blurry, terrified tears are streaming down his face on their own accord. His chest is heaving up and down, clumsy breaths are trying to fill his lungs. His body screams for oxygen, for more adrenaline to be pumped through his bloodstream–there"s no way Jimin’s weak lungs could keep up. 

He counts five cages. He sees five pairs of eyes staring at him. And the further he turns his head, the more he can taste the bile on his tongue, the panic rising up from the very bottom of his stomach. 

Time moves in slow motion–like someone wants to make sure he really registers everything around him–every petrifying detail–with utmost attention. 

In panic situations, as he read somewhere, humans arbitrarily focus on random things in their surroundings. The brain is trying to get a hold of something, it’s working ten times faster than usual, desperately clinging onto sanity. It needs to get fixated on something. 

Jimin"s eyes end up zooming in on a figure in the corner of his cage. 

He’s sitting on hay, just like Jimin. His knees are pulled close to his chest and he"s staring at Jimin out of huge, equally as terrified looking eyes as Jimin"s. 

Their gazes lock, and Jimin swears he feels his heart skip a beat. He gulps, and tears his gaze away. Ashamedly, he thinks, at least I"m not alone.  

And then he"s up. 

His legs carry him with little stability, but he somehow arrives at the door of the cage. It’s locked–obviously–but Jimin foolishly tries to open it with his body weight anyway. He throws himself against it, tries to move the thick, relentless, metal. 

His skull is still being assaulted by the splitting pain in his temple and in the back of his head. His right cheek is also throbbing in pain–it"s the side he fell on when the unknown man struck him down. 

The people–the other prisoners –in the other cages begin to look away, suddenly uninterested in Jimin"s inevitable failure. They already know he"s not going to succeed at escaping and they grant him the mercy of not witnessing his humiliation. 

A sob escapes Jimin"s throat. He sinks down to the ground, clothes immediately sucking up the moisture of the hay. His sage-colored slacks don"t offer much protection from the hay and stony underground. Nor does his black turtleneck. The coldness of the entire room is seeping through his garments. Someone also took his jacket off. Where is his fucking jacket? He was wearing it for sure when he watched Hyungseok and Minsoo change the tire. 

Speaking of Hyungseok and Minsoo…

Suddenly, he feels a presence behind him and immediately whirls around. 

“Don"t touch me!” he yells in a high-pitched voice. His back presses against the cold metal and he would shiver if it wasn"t for the adrenaline rush his body graces him with. 

It"s the guy who was sitting in the corner when Jimin was looking around. From this up close, Jimin sees how beaten up he is, how openly hopeless. He has the look of someone who"s already accepted his fate. It"s like looking at a mirror–Jimin just knows that expression too well. 

There"s blood all over the guy"s face. Blood and dirt. Only his eyes are as clear as crystals–a shiny, pristine thing in the middle of a wasteland. They"re dark, like obsidian, like the barrel of a gun, like the promise or something fateful, and he doesn"t blink once as he stares Jimin down. 

Jimin"s head feels like it"s going to explode. 

The guy doesn"t look offended at Jimin"s outbreak. He lifts one hand appeasingly. “Calm down, I won"t touch you,” he says softly. 

“I–” 

Jimin"s stomach churns without warning, and then he"s toppling over, nausea reigning over his mind. He throws up everything in his stomach until the acidy taste of bile is the only thing filling his mouth and he gags so hard, his vision goes black for a moment. 

It takes him forever to recover enough for a deep, much needed breath. His cheeks are burning, he feels like a blood vessel popped in his left eye. He hollows out his cheeks, collects the saliva and spits it out. Everything tastes like acid, smells like it too, and Jimin wishes he could brush his teeth. 

“You feel better now?”

Jimin reluctantly looks up. The mysterious guy–the other prisoner in this particular cage–is still staring down at him. He doesn’t look affected by the vomit that is covering the hay he"s standing on. It smells horrible here anyway, what will a bit more puke do? 

“Sorry, I just– I don"t know–” 

The guy sighs. “Don"t worry, none of us have any clue about the shit that is going on here.”

“What do you mean? What– what is this place?”

He shrugs, expression turning ghostly. “I woke up in here last night. You were lying at the other end of the…cage. You were unconscious and then you woke up, but, uh… yeah. I don"t know what"s going on, the others said they"ve been here since yesterday and only the two of us came tonight."

Jimin feels like throwing up once more. He got kidnapped. The reality sets in. Oh God. This is really happening to him, isn"t it? He was stupid enough to trust strangers and this is the result of that. Didn"t his mother teach him not to talk to strangers? Doesn"t everyone know not to trust strangers? 

He chokes on his own words. “Oh my God– oh–” 

“We"ve tried escaping, trust me,” his fellow captive goes on. “But nothing works. These cages are sturdy as hell. They won"t open. The others said they"ve also tried their best. It"s…hopeless."

Jimin doesn"t want to believe his words. The rational part of him has already processed the undeniable truth, and Jimin"s been more rational than anything else his entire life. He knows what is going on. Perhaps not the details, but he will figure those out later. The more naive and irrational part of him–the half of him that wished he was delusional and prone to romanticization–is fighting to be heard and wants to come to the forefront of his mind. This is just a dream, it whispers. A bad, bad dream . Let me save you. 

Jimin pushes it away. He has no time for silly delusions, unstable lies. The quicker we accept a situation, the easier we can remove ourselves from it. The faster we can accommodate and adjust. 

Of course, Jimin doesn"t want to adjust. He wants to leave. His entire body is desperately longing for the possibility to run. His legs feel like they are prickling with electricity, hands and feet are tingling, heart is pounding. It"s the adrenaline–the fear and panic that have become indistinguishable, that have been wired into his system. He feels high. 

“And the kidnappers?” Jimin finally asks airily. “Where are they? Where are we?”

Gather information . He"s watched enough thrillers and crime TV shows to know what he"s supposed to be doing now. If his stomach wasn"t acting up and if his head wasn"t thrumming in pain, then he"d be able to think clearly. 

“I told you, we’ve all got no clue. We got food and water this morning when you were still unconscious, but that"s it. Two guys, whose faces were covered, came in and gave us food and water. But they didn"t speak, didn"t react to provocations. Chungho over there even threw cow poop he found in the corner at one of them.”

Jimin looks over his shoulder to regard at another man in a cage apparently called Chungho. The middle-aged looking man smiles weakly and waves at him. Jimin doesn"t smile back; he has no empathy or solidarity to offer. 

Jimin"s stomach and chest are hollow things. He feels like he’s crumbling, falling into himself like a sinkhole. This isn"t supposed to happen to people like him. What did he ever do wrong in his life? 

"But– but why are we here?" he sobs. “Why did they do this?”

He needs information. Clarification. Absolution. He wants to talk to the people who captured him–he still remembers two of their names. Simply for the purpose of having them explain why. It"s cruel enough to kidnap someone, but you should at least possess the decency to let them know what it is that they want from you, right? Right? 

The guy with the huge eyes shrugs. "How the fuck am I supposed to know? I"m telling you they didn"t say anything."

Jimin"s mouth hangs open and he seriously debates on lying down and just… sleeping. Usually he feels better after a good sleep. But the circumstances are different now. He"s in a fucking cage. Like an animal waiting to be butchered and served as dinner. 

"I can"t believe this," he says to himself. “I thought they just wanted to help me.”

Apparently, the other guy thought he was talking to him. "Me neither, trust me," he says. "None of us can. Wait– what?" 

Jimin stares off into nowhere. When he was a teenager he was very good at dissociating and escaping into his mind. It was like turning on a switch and a second later he was gone. He unfortunately lost that ability some time ago and now he"s been stuck in this soul-shattering reality that offers consolation to no one, especially not those who prefer rationality. 

"I"m Jungkook, by the way. But what did you just say? Who wanted to help you?"

Jimin looks up. "Jimin," he whispers back. 

The guy–Jungkook–nods slowly. "Are you hurt anywhere, Jimin? You have blood on the side of your head." 

"Yeah, someone hit me with something," he says. "But it"s already better now. I– I might have a concussion though I think. I feel dizzy."

However, deep down, he knows that he will feel horrible as soon as the adrenaline subsides. It"s just a matter of time. He might throw up again–from the concussion or from panic. He might have headaches, he might feel dizzy. He might want to scream. 

"That"s good to hear," Jungkook says. Jimin thinks he hears genuine interest in his voice, but he can"t be sure; he was never good at reading people correctly, he always misinterpreted their behavior. 

"And you?" Jimin blurts. "Are you okay?" 

Jungkook frowns slightly, eyes sweeping over Jimin as if he just asked something absurd. "I"m fine. I think." 

"That"s…good," Jimin replies awkwardly. 

"Yeah," Jungkook says. 

Was that a stupid question to ask? Jimin inwardly wonders. 

Jimin decides to sit up a bit. "Also, about what I said earlier…I might have seen and talked to two of the people who are doing this to us…I think. It has to be them." 

Jungkook"s eyes widen in surprise. His hands twitch, he looks like he wants to drop to his knees and come closer to Jimin, but he stays where he is. Thankfully. Jimin doesn"t want anyone coming close to him. "Tell me more."

The other prisoners also registered what Jimin said. He hears people moving and in his peripheral vision he sees a woman wrapping her hands around the metal bars, staring at him with a surprised expression, something deceitful creeping into her eyes. Something that looks a lot like hope. 

Too bad Jimin is going to crush it right away. 

"I wanted to drive to a cabin my family owns," Jimin starts awkwardly. 

"Speak louder, we can"t hear you!" the woman two cages away yells. 

Jimin flinches slightly from the scream, a sharp pain shooting through his temple again. 

"He has a head injury, Yuna! Don"t scream for fucks sake!" Jungkook–to Jimin"s absolute surprise–exclaims angrily. 

"Who cares! He looks just fine to me! If he has vital information then he should fucking share it! We"ve been in here longer than you two and this is the first time we are hearing anything important!" 

Jungkook doesn"t look pleased. He steps forward, expression hardening. "Can you–" 

"It"s fine," Jimin cuts in, feeling uncomfortable. He doesn"t want to get into a useless fight with these strangers. "I will…speak louder."

The woman–Yuna–looks a little disgruntled and mutters something under her breath, but she calms down, waiting for Jimin to continue. Jimin takes a careful look at her matted hair and the bags under her eyes–she looks just as terrible as everyone else. 

He tells them what happened; how he wound up with a flat tire and then these two strangers found him, who also helped him and fixed his tire, and then the third one showed up out of nowhere and–

"He really said that? That they have enough already?" an older man in the cage on the right side next to Jimin asks. Jimin doesn"t know his name, and he doesn"t have the mind to ask. He doesn"t need to know everyone"s names, they don"t matter. If he knows them, this situation will only intensify and gain gravity–it will become tangible. 

"Yeah," Jimin confirms hoarsely. "That"s what he said." 

"Oh God, we"re going to get shipped off to a different country and they"ll cut the organs out of our bodies," Yuna wails loudly. "I have two kids at home! I was just out shopping for dinner and then I heard this weird sound and wanted to check and then– then they knocked me out!" 

The stories are apparently all similar. All of them give a short, unprompted summary of what happened to them; the five of them were out at night on their way to their cars, or walking back home, all alone. Then they got knocked out by someone they didn"t see and woke up here. No one knows how long they were unconscious. No one knows anything at all. 

It seems like only Jimin"s story is different. 

And the fact that they obviously only wanted five people. Not six. That"s what Minsoo implied. We already have enough. Jimin was… a coincidence? Is that what he is? 

"We all woke up here yesterday and then tonight they brought in you two," Chungho stresses. He"s about forty, Jimin guesses. Dirty glasses are perched on his nose that make his eyes bigger. 

By "all" he means the four other people in the two cages that aren"t Jimin and Jungkook"s. There"s Yuna, there"s Chungo, there"s the old man whose name Jimin doesn"t know, and there"s another young girl, who hasn"t said anything yet at all. She hasn"t even looked at the others, or participated in the conversation, she"s just lying on the ground, staring off into nowhere. 

Jimin quickly looks away again. He takes a better look at the cage itself. It"s as big as his living room, spacious enough for at least ten people. There"s a window too, but it"s so high up, Jimin wouldn"t be able to reach it if he was standing. And it"s protected by metal too. In addition, he notices a blue bucket in the corner. He can already assume what that is for. 

His head swings over to Jungkook. Why were they added late? What in the whole world is going on here? 

"Maybe they need the same amount of people in one cage? Or they wanted us all huddled together?" Jungkook offers in a small voice. "I don"t know." 

"Yeah, no one knows anything. That"s the fucking problem!" Yuna screams hysterically. "I can"t die! You hear that?! I CAN"T DIE!" 

Jimin tries not to flinch, but her voice is obnoxiously high-pitched and it seems to pierce through his ears like sharp nails, making his head throb in pain. He keeps quiet about it though; he understands her panic, her wish to stay alive. It shouldn"t be so surprising that all he can think of is staying alive, because that was the last thing on his mind for the entire last decade. 

Being alive–it wasn"t something he wasted his thoughts on. He was too much of a coward to end it and too much of a coward to actually live it. He was somewhere in the middle, walking on a very thin line. And now…now he has strayed too far away into the wrong territory and all he longs for is to throw himself into the other one again. 

"We won"t die," Jungkook states confidently. "If we work together, we can find a way out of this. I"m sure we can. I"m from–" 

"How are we supposed to work together when we"re all in different cages!" Yuna interrupts, screaming again. "Do you see the girl over there? She"s been like this since I woke up! What did they do to her?!" 

Jimin involuntarily looks at the girl again, feeling how discomfort washes over him. Yeah, what did they do to her? He really doesn"t want to know. 

"We should try to talk to them," the old man suggests. "Talk some sense into them. They surely don"t know how bad the consequences will be for them once they get caught."

Jimin wants to scoff at this naive old man. They don"t know the consequences? How funny. He shakes his head to himself. This was all obviously meticulously planned. Only diligent people have this level of organization. They have cages, they have an abandoned place somewhere far off from civilization, they are multiple people–there"s no way they aren"t aware of the severity of this crime. 

In fact, they are so acutely aware of it that they probably took precautions. 

"You don"t really believe that," Jimin says before he can stop himself. 

The wrinkles on the old man"s face deepen. "Normal people wouldn"t do this. There has to be a reason behind their behavior, and if we talk to them–" 

"You have no idea what people are capable of," Jimin snaps. "At your age, shouldn"t you know that monsters are no different from humans? That humans are capable of everything and that some of them just don"t feel remorse? I don"t know what makes you think this is any different. But don"t delude yourself; you"ll only be disappointed. I don"t think they will just let us go after a cute, little talk."

He receives blank stares. Yuna has a hand thrown over her mouth. Everyone"s eyes are ripped wide open, staring at Jimin as if he is the one who did this to them. 

"Someone had to say the truth," he shrugs. 

This is how people are: they"d rather love their little delusions and fantasies than stare truth into the eye and accept the inevitable. And Jimin gets it, he really does, but he also thinks he shouldn"t be the only one to suffer in this situation. Their naive mindsets, their love for seeing the good in obviously rotten and dark people, won"t help them. It will only bring them closer to whatever their kidnappers have planned for them. 

This is a sinking ship and Jimin, for all he cares, won"t mind if the rest of them want to drown, but he certainly won"t be among them. 

They have to work together , Jungkook said, but in Jimin"s eyes the case is clear: they"re all useless, he is on his own. It"s every man for themselves. 

The conversation dies. 

Jimin sinks back and takes a deep breath. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

The first night, Jimin doesn"t move. He"s hellbent on not falling asleep. 

He doesn"t change his position either; he keeps staring at the large door at the other end of the barn. It"s not even locked–at least it didn"t appear to be locked when the light bulb was still on. It just turned off after some time. 

If he could only get out of the fucking cage, then he could easily escape, but these cages are probably controlled electronically–there"s no way Jimin could free himself from inside the cage without the device needed for this mechanism. 

But he keeps staring anyway–as if he could somehow develop laser eyes and destroy everything around him. He feels crazily calm for some reason. Actually, he probably knows why he isn’t having another panic attack yet. His rational mind is at the forefront right now, and it isn"t stupid, it"s protecting itself by stopping another attack. A survival method, if so to speak. Jimin has officially entered survival mode and he can"t help but wonder if this is how animals feel every damn day of their lives. He should have gone vegan, really. Now that he’s in this situation, he can’t stop thinking about it. 

Animals aren"t all that different from us, Jimin doesn"t think they lack the awareness of what is going to happen to them. Sometimes, he thinks, it just takes one look into a living being’s eyes. 

Jimin doesn"t move. He doesn"t blink. He tries to not breathe. Emphasis on tries . He unfortunately gets dizzy at times and his heartbeat goes up if he holds his breath for too long. But it functions as a fun game to waste time, because nothing fucking happens. Nothing . 

The other prisoners fall asleep at some point and their ragged breaths, the old man"s snoring, and the girl"s nightmare-induced whimpers, fill the barn. 

Jimin stares and stares and stares and nothing changes; the door doesn"t open, the reality he’s stuck in doesn"t turn out to be a dream after all. The sharp words he threw at the other prisoners" heads so mindlessly, heartlessly, carelessly float inside his mind, repeating themselves over and over. 

He acted like he has accepted this, that he stands over them all, but he is, at the bottom of his empty heart, a hypocrite, and everything he says is to divert the attention from his own lies and his own delusion. 

Because how he really feels is nothing he could just say out loud. Because he"d rather die than accept this. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Even though he swore to stay awake the entire night, his body betrayed him at some point and he fell asleep. Therefore, Jimin gets violently woken up by Jungkook the next day. 

He jolts up inelegantly, almost knocking his head against Jungkook"s, who surprisingly manages to pull back before it happens. 

He stares down at Jimin–his eyes look even bigger from this position–and he breathes, “They should come in a few.”

“They?” Jimin repeats dumbly, blinking heavily. He was dreaming about something nice. He really wants to go back to that dream. 

“Yes,” Jungkook says impatiently. “You should be awake for it, or they won"t give you anything–that"s what Chungho said. Do you want to starve?”

Jimin’s senses come back to him really quickly. “They"re gonna bring us food? Who"s they?"

"The kidnappers? Who else?" 

"Okay, then get off me so I can sit up.” He sounds harsher than intended, but he never really cared about hurting people anyway. It just happens. He says something and people will look at him with these fragile little expressions as if Jimin just magically crushed all of their dreams with his bare hands. It’s not his fault that most people can"t deal with the truth. He’s not insensitive, others just expect to get coddled. 

Then again: the moment someone comes up to him and confronts him with things he"d rather not think about right now, he feels exposed too. He feels ashamed. Humiliated. He wants to hurt the other person for uttering those words. 

Isn"t that beautifully hypocritical of him? Ah, what a nice paradox he is. What an easily predictable person. It’s quite depressing–especially since he isn"t unaware of this inherent problem. He just hasn"t done anything about it yet. 

And if he doesn"t get out of this fucking God forsaken cage, then he won"t have his character development anyway. 

It angers him, this undeniably high possibility of this ending badly for him. 

Jungkook doesn"t say anything as he retreats and brings distance between himself and Jimin. He also doesn"t look offended by Jimin snapping at him. He actually just looks occupied with other things on his mind. He’s not even glancing in Jimin’s direction anymore. 

He did the same thing yesterday after Jimin snapped at everyone. The others all looked away, appalled and somehow scared of Jimin, but Jungkook kept his gaze on him, studying Jimin with his dark eyes. Jimin didn"t know what to think about it. The lack of reaction felt…wrong. He"s used to people straying away from him after he really speaks his mind in front of them for the first time, and he didn"t expect it to be different at that moment–they"re just strangers that somehow fell victim to the same fate, after all. 

Slightly bummed by Jungkook"s lack of response again, Jimin follows his gaze and his breath hitches when he sees what Jungkook is focusing on. 

With perfect timing, the door opens with loud screeches. It creates such an overwhelming feeling, an overstimulation of some sort, that Jimin automatically wants to hide in a corner and wait until the situation is over. 

But he can"t. 

His eyes stay glued to the two men walking into the barn. 

They"re masked, obviously. It"s just some cheap black ski masks covering their entire faces and only the eyes are visible–like dark little pits of cruelty. Jimin could swear he sees one of the men smiling even through the mask. His eyes have that look when he comes close to Jimin and Jungkook’s cage, holding a plastic bag filled with things. 

Jimin knows it"s a man. He can tell by the walk alone–by the open violence that metaphorically lies below those arrogant, loud steps. Then, there"s the stature; the broad shoulders and the thick neck, long but undefined legs. And the hands as they place the bag in front of the cage. Black, dirty nails, thick fingers that for sure know how to skin a deer but not how to gently pet a dog, veins protruding, knuckles whitening. Jimin cringes in disgust. 

This definitely isn"t Minsoo–he was a bit smaller, a bit less stiff. Is it Hyungseok? It could be. Jimin didn"t really pay attention to him that much. He can"t recall the way he walked or talked–he only remembers his, now, terrifying silence. 

Jimin stares at the guy"s eyes, wondering if this is really Hyungseok. Or–

Or is he perhaps the guy who struck him? Is this him? 

The guy puts the food through the bars one by one. He’s apparently not scared of Jimin or Jungkook attacking him by snatching his hands. He’s not worried at all. And if that"s not evidence of his innate arrogance and believed superiority, then Jimin doesn"t know what it is. Yet, it also shows and amplifies Jimin’s own inferiority. Because, as he has to recall in barely bearable humiliation, he is the victim in this exchange. 

But Jimin keeps his gaze steady. It’s compensation for the questions and the insults that shoot through his head. LET ME GO YOU DERANGED PIECE OF SHIT , Jimin’s brain screams, but no words go over his dry, broken lips. 

The sheer silence is absolutely deafening. No one is making any sounds except the two men–the two kidnappers. Is it only two of them? Are there more? What are they planning? 

There have to be more, Jimin decides. One look at the other masked man tells him that it"s not Minsoo either. The other one is smaller, moving around with less energy than Minsoo. But…what if Minsoo was only pretending in front of Jimin? He is part of the kidnappers, he knows the one who hit Jimin on the head. There"s no denying. Jimin can"t expect help from him.

So far, Jimin knows there could be approximately five of them: Minsoo, Hyungseok, the two in the barn right now (although one of them could be Hyungseok), and the unknown man who chose to knock Jimin out and drag him over the asphalt. However, one of the two men in the barn right now could also be the one who did that to Jimin. So, the conclusion is that Jimin basically knows nothing. 

On the other side of the barn, the old man receives food from the smaller guy–the one who reminds Jimin of a panther or a mountain lion–and he quickly grabs the food and crawls back to inspect it. 

Jimin almost laughs. Yesterday, he spewed nonsense about confronting the kidnappers. Today, he doesn"t even have the courage to open his mouth. What a joke.

“Take it,” someone orders. “Or leave it, not my problem.”

Only then Jimin realizes that the other man–the one who could potentially be Hyungseok–had been talking to him while he was sunken in his inner monologue. His gaze snaps up and he is met by the small little dots that peek through the mask his captor is wearing. They look lifeless, absolutely grotesque. 

It reminds Jimin of his father"s brother, the uncle who was shunned from the family. He had raped their sister, Jimin"s aunt, at ten years old. One time, Jimin saw a picture of him at his grandparent"s house and when he looked into his uncle"s eyes the truth about him seemed crystal clear. This man was a monster, how had they overlooked it for the first fifteen years of his life? 

He experiences the same thing now. Those eyes are empty as can be. Eyes like that only fill themselves when they take something from other people. They need it to fill the void inside of them.

Jimin isn’t scared. He can’t allow himself to be scared.

Instead, he grabs the food, his fingers brushing the man’s dirty hands, making him suppress a shudder, and he impulsively decides to open his mouth after all. He makes sure to speak loudly so the old man will hear him. Because he"s going to prove a point now. 

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from us?”

His direct questions, surprisingly uttered in a calm voice, don’t faze the man; he scoffs slightly, throwing the last bag of food into the cage, right into Jungkook’s direction–Jungkook who has been completely silent until now. Jungkook who has been sitting somewhere behind Jimin. 

Jimin doesn"t look over his shoulder to check on Jungkook. He"s waiting for the man to answer. 

And when he does, he almost squeals in delight. 

“Because we can, dummy.”

I was right. 

Jimin searches the old man"s gaze, just so he can communicate his meaningless victory. I was right. They aren"t doing this because they have a reason. Look at me and tell me that you were wrong. 

"You’re violating human rights,” Jimin goes on, however, undeterred. Now that he has the man"s attention, he will make the best of it. “If they find out–”

“ They? The police, you mean? What makes you think the police aren"t aware of this?” the guy chuckles. 

At that, Jimin actually blanches. Any other words he could have said die in the back of his throat. Like so often, Jimin is frustrated–frustrated by the general unfairness of this world.

The man snickers, clearly amused by Jimin’s reaction. He’s a sick, disgusting man, getting off on seeing people in a cage, treating them like animals ready for slaughter, and Jimin can see it all just in his tiny pig-looking eyes. 

It hits him then: this man"s a pig and the other one is a lion, they"re two animals who want to show conceited humans–Jimin and the other prisoners–that they aren"t any better than them. We"re all just a hoard of animals, fighting for our place in the food chain. The hierarchy isn"t clear in society, so they took it upon them to show others where they are placed. 

"This is unfair," Jimin mumbles to himself.

"What"d you say?" the pig grunts. 

Jimin looks at the pig"s dirty boots. There"s mud all over them. He even smells like a pig. 

"This is unfair," Jimin repeats, louder this time. 

There"s silence at first. Then, "You hear this? The blonde one over here said this is unfair, isn"t that funny?" 

The lion turns around at the pig"s voice. He looks at him with his cat-like eyes that peek through the mask, and Jimin imagines how he bares his teeth underneath his ski mask, bemoaning the fact that he can"t reveal his face to Jimin. Oh, he"d love to show Jimin his teeth, wouldn"t he? 

Show me, Jimin thinks. Show me how ugly you are. 

"He"ll put up a good fight," the lion snarls, not looking away from Jimin. Is he imagining how Jimin"s blood will taste on his tongue? How his flesh will rip and give in to his sharp canines? How he will take Jimin apart and enjoy every second of it?

"This year is looking like a lot of fun," the pig agrees, clapping the lion on the biceps. "Fuck, I can"t wait." 

They"re acting like the prisoners aren"t even there. As if it didn"t matter that they can all hear them.

The lion chuckles graciously, squeezing the pig"s arm as he walks past him. "Patience, the day is approaching rapidly."

"I know," the pig whines. "But the suspense is killing me."

The lion apparently doesn"t like the pig"s impatience. He clicks his tongue and ushers the pig towards the door. "You know what the rules are."

The pig groans loudly. "I hate that he always has to do things like this." 

"You–" the lion starts, suddenly whipping his head around. 

Why is he staring at me? Jimin instinctively notices. 

"Why do you always run your mouth?" the lion finishes, scolding the pig. "Let"s go. We have things to take care of." 

Somewhere in the background, Yuna starts sobbing, throwing herself against the cage over and over again. The other prisoners whisper calming things at her, but Jimin doesn"t. 

Jimin stares after the pig and the lion, fantasizing about magically conjuring a gun that he would use to blow their heads off their bodies. 

But he isn"t a character in a fantasy novel, he"s a poor, resourceless human. 

The pig and the lion leave and with them the overbearing heat of Jimin’s hatred and disgust does too, leaving him with the harsh coldness of winter. He is suddenly shivering in his thin clothes and one look around the room tells him the other prisoners feel the same. Yuna is still crying, the young girl sits in the corner munching on something while her long dark hair covers her face, Chungho is still yelling at Yuna to shut the fuck up, and the old man looks longingly at Chungho"s food although his own is still sitting untouched in his lap. 

There haven"t been any fights for food yet. Jimin knows it"s only a matter of time. Soon, they"ll all get more hungry, more thirsty, more desperate. 

He finally inspects the food himself; it"s all packaged stuff, nothing that would really satiate anyone, but Jimin takes what he gets. He eats the nuts and the small bag of chips immediately, only realizing now how hungry he actually was. There is also one bottle of water that he only drinks half, making sure to leave some for later or tomorrow. If there is tomorrow . 

After a while, he realizes he hasn"t heard anything from Jungkook yet. 

He"s his cellmate (or should he say cagemate?!) and he appears to be the only one in this barn who"s still somewhat lucid. 

He is sitting in the other corner, slowly feasting on the nuts and raisins the kidnappers gave them. Like yesterday, he has his knees pulled to his chest, looking quite frightened and helpless.

Jimin debates for a moment if he should approach him. He is still a stranger, and Jimin usually doesn’t do too well with those. 

Thankfully, Jungkook ends up approaching him first. He nods at him. 

"Hey."

Jimin almost flinches. "Hey," he replies flatly. 

He holds up his food. "We could share, you know. I don"t need to eat a lot."

Jimin can"t help the quick change in his facial expression. "Why do you want to share? It"s not like they gave us a lot."

Jungkook doesn"t look hurt, but he does look dejected. "Just wanted to be nice."

"There"s no need."

"Wow," Jungkook scoffs softly. 

"What?" Jimin prods. 

"Nothing, just surprised by your hostility. You"re acting like I"m the one who"s doing this to you."

"Of course, you"re not," Jimin puffs out. "But just because we"re stuck here together doesn"t mean I need to be friends with you or any of the other people here."

Jungkook raises a brow at him. "I think we"d have a bigger chance at survival if we all stick together and do our best to escape."

"The fact that you think we can escape from here tells me everything I need to know."

"What? I can"t have a little hope? You don"t even know what they want from us. It"s like you don"t even want to escape."

Jimin stares at him blank-faced. The last sentence repeats itself. It"s like you don"t even want to escape. What should he say? It"s not like he doesn"t want to escape. That"s not true. But how can he make Jungkook believe him when it looks like Jungkook already built himself an opinion of Jimin that he can"t undo? 

"I think I don"t even want to know what they want from us," he says eventually.

"Is that why you asked that one guy earlier? Because you don"t want to know?" 

Jungkook caught him. Jimin presses his lips together. "I don"t need to talk to you."

Jungkook finds this all very amusing suddenly. He cranes his head back and lets out a short laugh. "Fine, then don"t talk to me. God, you have a fucking stick up your ass." 

Jimin has no time to retort something equally offending because Jungkook turns away from him and goes over to the other edge of the cage where he waves at Chungho and starts a conversation with him. 

Jimin is fuming. He stares holes into Jungkook’s back. How dare this guy think he"s better than Jimin? Is he even realizing how hopeless their situation is? Did he judge Jungkook prematurely? He seemed innocent and scared, like he"d cling to Jimin for sanity if Jimin would let him. But maybe he isn"t like that.

Jimin catches Chungho stealing glances at him the entire time Jungkook is talking to him.

He makes sure to glare back viciously. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚ 

A little later–after Jimin spent his time observing the other prisoners with lingering hatred–Jungkook actually comes over to him again. 

This time, he takes a different approach. 

The other prisoners have been chatting about their lives for a while, talking about kids, their jobs, their dreams, their fears. Jimin listened, but didn"t participate in the talk. They all willingly revealed everything about themselves, as if they felt the inexplicable urge to open up one last time before death comes haunting them. 

Jimin feels no such thing. If anything, he feels even more closed up. 

But he also doesn"t blame them. They all have nothing else to do but talk all day to fill the void they all feel. The kidnappers still haven"t revealed anything and only came in to give them food and water. They are all waiting for a big reveal, something so shocking that it will rip the skin from their bones. Yet they all think the same; at least then they"d be prepared. 

Jimin has been sitting in the same position for so long that his muscles are frozen and his joints feel stuck. He can"t move away quickly enough when Jungkook sits down in front of him. 

"Hi," he says unceremoniously. 

Jimin gives him a disinterested scowl. 

"Are you mute now?" Jungkook teases. 

Jimin feels irritated. He doesn"t understand what Jungkook wants from him. "No."

"Can you help me for a second then?" 

Jimin frowns even harder. "For what could you possibly need my help?" 

Jungkook shows him his half empty water bottle that he has been holding in his hands. "I have dried blood all over my face, could you help me get it off? I didn"t want to waste all my water, which I surely would if I did this alone and just splashed it all over my face." 

Jimin"s mouth immediately parts in protest. But he hesitates. Then he reconsiders. Maybe….maybe Jungkook will leave him alone if he does this for him. And, yes, there is blood all over his face. 

"I"m guessing you too got hit on the head?" Jimin asks flatly. 

Jungkook shrugs. "It"s the easiest way to knock someone out. I think I fell on my head too afterwards. Good thing I have a thick skull."

"Hm, happens," Jimin mumbles. He doesn"t indulge Jungkook"s attempt at humor. 

"What about your concussion?" Jungkook wonders. His expression is genuine. 

"It"s…manageable," he says slowly. "I don"t know what to tell you."

In fact, he hasn"t thought about it since yesterday. He"s not sure if he even has a concussion. The symptoms surely feel like it, but he can"t be sure. His body could be betraying him, and the environmental circumstances don"t make it any easier to determine what symptoms stem from panic and what from an actual injury. 

Jungkook"s lips twitch. "It"s fine, we don"t need to talk. I already guessed that talking isn"t your favorite hobby. Or human interaction, in general."

Jimin feels tense. People making assumptions about him is an uncomfortable enterprise. He always tries to avoid people becoming interested in him, but it"s impossible to not be perceived. 

"Are you trying to provoke me?" 

Jungkook looks at him for a short, weirdly thrilling moment. Jimin thinks he"s going to burst into laughter any second now. The left corner of his mouth rises. "You"re funny."

Jimin gulps. God, this is awkward. Really awkward. He doesn"t understand Jungkook"s behavior. 

"So…will you help me?" Jungkook asks sweetly. Why are his eyes so big? 

"Or do I have to beg?" he adds. 

Jimin almost says, yes, go on, beg but…no. "Give me the water," Jimin grunts, holding out his palm impatiently. Let"s just get this over with. 

"I really have blood everywhere," Jungkook complains, pointing at his face and his body.

Jimin scoots a tiny bit forward, crossing his legs. They"re sitting closely together, but not so much that their bodies touch. If he moved an inch closer, his knee would bump into Jungkook"s. The thought is nerve-wracking–as if he was fearing that touching Jungkook would electrocute and kill him. 

Holding his breath, he studies Jungkook"s face while holding the water bottle. There is dried blood on his forehead, probably coming from a wound hidden in his dark hair where he got hit by the unknown kidnapper. His hair is disheveled, but still looks relatively soft. Jimin doesn"t want to think about the state of his own hair. 

There"s blood on Jungkook"s cheek and some of it dripped all the way down to his jaw. It"s a sharp, strong jaw that fits his face perfectly. 

Jimin doesn"t want to touch him. Jungkook"s awful optimism might be a contagious disease. Jimin doesn"t want to catch it. He imagines that dying after whole-heartedly believing in the best outcome is worse than being prepared for the worst. 

"There"s something on my cheek, right?" Jungkook asks him. He touches his blood-soiled cheek. "It feels like there is something." 

Jimin snaps out of his trance. "Hm?" 

"My cheek–is there still blood?" 

Jimin looks at his face again . It"s an exquisite one, a face Jimin would really detest in real life. When he saw boys like Jungkook around campus, he avoided them like the plague. They always moved through life as if they owned it, held up by their loving parents, loving girlfriends, superficial friends. But he was able to tell from the very first second on that Jungkook isn"t exactly like that; he"s different. He"s so different. 

He"s one of those special cases that have these perfect lives, but they are not entirely conceited or blinded by their arrogance. They"re not ignorant. Jungkook isn"t dumb–Jimin sees an intelligent glint in his eyes. It makes him wonder what Jungkook sees in him, why he keeps looking at Jimin as if he"s a lock he needs to pick. As if an enormous treasure lay beyond it. 

Jimin would love to tell him that it"s not like that; he"s not hiding something precious, he"s hiding his hatred for the world. A burning, scorching hatred that won"t end before it has destroyed Jimin. 

Jungkook wouldn"t understand this, he"s not like Jimin–bitter and pessimistic–he"s something else, something better, someone that shouldn"t end up dying in a dirty barn. 

He hates that he thinks like this. It feels like admitting that he"s inferior to Jungkook. Which is ridiculous. Humans all have the same worth… Right? 

"Jimin?" 

Even the way Jungkook says his name…Why does it sound like he"s used to saying it? 

"Yeah, you still have a little bit up here," Jimin finally says, voice thick with awkwardness. He gestures towards the patch of blood. 

"Here?" Jungkook touches his cheek. 

"No, it"s– yeah, it"s almost–" he huffs out when Jungkook keeps missing the spot where he still has blood. Jimin doesn"t understand why he"s so adamant about removing it from his face anyway, it"s not like it really matters, right? But he feels inclined to indulge Jungkook. It"s not out of pity or because he likes Jungkook. It"s just… it"s a basic favor. 

Struck by a weird confidence, Jimin moves closer. 

"Hold still," he mumbles sternly, grabbing Jungkook’s jaw softly. 

Jungkook"s breath audibly hitches. His Adam"s apple protrudes as he swallows. Jimin sees a silver necklace dangling around his neck. "O-okay," Jungkook stammers. 

Jimin grabs the back of his head with his other hand to angle Jungkook’s head correctly. "Stay like this."

"Okay," Jungkook repeats quietly, eyes following Jimin’s movements. 

Jimin lets go of him, opening the water bottle to slightly wet his fingers. "I"ll try to get it off your face." 

He has no idea how to remove blood. He will just use the water and try. His fingers are shaking when he grazes Jungkook’s cheek. Jungkook obediently remains still, not saying a single word. Perhaps he"s even holding his breath like Jimin is. 

He rubs his fingers over the dark red spot, trying to remove the blood. "I think it"s…" 

"Yeah?" 

"It"s harder to get it off than I thought," he realizes. "I really need to rub if I want to–" 

"Do it."

Jimin breathes in, the air suddenly tastes like tension, like something palpable and tangible. Jimin goes on, does his best to get the stubborn dried blood from Jungkook’s face. After a moment, it actually starts to disappear and Jimin moves on to Jungkook’s jaw. 

"Should I tilt my head?" Jungkook suggests. He proceeds without waiting for Jimin’s answer. 

"Oh? Yeah– yeah that would work better," Jimin says awkwardly. 

"Okay, I"m almost done anyway," he mumbles in addition. 

"You"re doing great," Jungkook says. It"s a simple praise, something that dripped from his lips as easily as every other word, so why does it make Jimin’s heart stumble? 

Jimin doesn"t answer. He stubbornly keeps his gaze on Jungkook’s skin, never his eyes, never his lips, or the way his Adam"s apple moves up and down, the way his mouth almost morphs into a smile whenever Jimin has to readjust his angle. 

Jimin is almost done with the task when Jungkook asks him a question that propels Jimin back into the depressing, inescapable reality. 

"Is anyone missing you?" Jungkook asks out of nowhere. 

Jimin"s head jerks in his direction, eyes ripped wide open. He heard Jungkook clearly, but he presses out, "What?"  

"You know…" Jungkook begins, voice trailing off. He blushes , there"s literally a rosy hue covering his cheeks–like he feels embarrassed? Jimin"s attention unwillingly grows. "I mean... Like– do you think someone is searching for you? Family? Friends?" 

Oh, that . Jimin gets it now. A sense of inevitable embarrassment, of inconsolable loneliness, washes over him. 

Should he lie? 

"No, no one"s searching for me," Jimin mumbles. "At least not for a while." He avoids looking at Jungkook, scared of the judgment in his eyes. How is he supposed to tell him that he"s estranged from his family? And that he feels no connection to them whatsoever and that they won"t think about him until Christmas rolls around and he has to drag himself to his family"s house and endure a painfully silent three days with them. And that if any words will be exchanged they will solely consist of him getting disregarded, insulted and belittled. 

"No one"s searching for me either," Jungkook whispers–much to Jimin"s surprise. "I didn"t tell the others," he goes on. His words are rushed, telling Jimin this must cost him a lot of courage. "They all…I don"t know, they just looked like they had people waiting for their return. A husband, wife, kids, friends. I…I don"t…" 

Jimin looks at him then. Really looks at him. He is able to see beyond the pretty face Jungkook has and–perhaps he is imagining it–he registers the loneliness deep down in his compelling and startling beautiful eyes. 

"You…you"re all alone?" In this world, remains unspoken, but they both know those were the words Jimin meant to say. 

Jungkook nods. "My parents died last year," he sighs. "Car accident. It was during this time of the year too, shortly before Christmas. The streets were frozen, dad lost control, and they collided with another car. And my brother… It"s a long story. Anyway, it"s just me."

Jimin swallows hard. "I"m sorry," he forces out. What else can he say? He isn"t good with words. Nor with sympathy. 

Jungkook shrugs. "I… I struggled for a while, you know. Couldn"t comprehend their deaths. I distanced myself from friends and relatives and at some point no one was left. Ah, I guess it"s my own fault. If I had only tried harder…" 

It feels like a stab to Jimin"s chest. "No, your friends should have tried harder," he counters with venom. "You lost your parents, they should have stayed, should have been there for you."

Jungkook got him; he has Jimin dangling off his hook, like a fish he wants to eat for dinner and roast over the fire. Jimin can"t stop himself all of a sudden, intense emotions bubbling under the surface of his skin. They"re negative, which means he has no trouble showing them. 

Jungkook sends him a small, thankful smile. "That"s what you think?" 

Jimin frowns in disbelief. "Isn"t that common sense? If my friend lost his parents, I"d try everything in my power to show him support. Offer comfort. Help with everyday tasks like grocery shopping and cleaning. That sort of thing. I"d try. I"d– I"d try as hard as possible." 

"You sound like a good friend," Jungkook says. There"s something unfathomable in his eyes besides his loneliness and intelligence. It floats around inside of them, pulling Jimin closer, forcing him to build an opinion. 

"I"m not," Jimin laughs dryly. "If you knew me in real life then you"d say I"m a horribly selfish person. I prioritize myself at all times. I don"t make efforts to keep people around. They all leave anyway. People like me don"t get along with people like you for long."

Jungkook"s head tilts to the side. In the near silence–the deafening sounds of the other prisoners" soft voices and their own shallow murmurs–Jimin imagines seeing genuine interest in Jungkook"s features. He"s so young, yet there"s something about him that gives Jimin the impression of infinite wisdom. That he knows things Jimin doesn"t. 

"People like me?" 

Jimin stares him down. He doesn"t sugarcoat his next words. "People who are convinced things will always turn out in their favor. That a bad day is just an exception. People who aren"t plagued by constant misery over their own pessimistic worldviews."

"I"m like that? How"d you know?" 

Good question. "I just do." 

Jungkook’s mouth curls up. "You make a lot of assumptions, don"t you?" 

"I guess," he says, wanting to exit the conversation. 

"So you"re the opposite? You think the world is out to get you?" 

"I guess," he repeats. Why is he nervous all of a sudden? "We should just talk about something else."

"No, let"s backtrack. You said that you"d try to help that friend who is going through rough times, comfort them, love them," Jungkook points out. "Why do you think people like me would not like that?" 

"That"s in theory," Jimin explains defiantly. "In reality, that is meaningless. People don"t see your efforts–no matter how much of yourself you sacrifice."

Jimin distantly remembers his friendships in high school and the beginning of university. He searched for tight bonds outside of his family. He had a large group of friends. Many of them. Way too many. He had close friends. Good friends. Acquaintances. And he had best friends. But look at him now: alone and deserted. Abandoned and forgotten. Who is there to blame but himself? He"s already bitter at the world, there"s no use to blame it for this little discomfort too when he already blames it for everything else. Some things are just your own fault. 

So now he skirts around the edges of friendship, avoiding any serious commitments. He"s waiting for life to change for him. He just needs to get a stable job, a satisfying social life, and then everything will eventually fall into place. He"ll find an abundance of joy. He"ll be worthy of friendships again. 

"That"s cynical," Jungkook snorts. Others would have said it in a judging manner, maybe even scoldingly. But he chuckles. He looks amused. 

"Yeah, well, you wanted to know," Jimin says awkwardly. 

"By the way," Jungkook says. "You said if I knew you in real life I"d find you–what was it?–"horribly selfish"? My question is, isn"t this real life?" 

The color drains from Jimin"s face in an instant. Nausea ripples through him. Does Jungkook want to unravel him or why is he so hellbent on analyzing Jimin’s words? "Oh," Jimin says. "This– I guess so."

Jungkook"s expression is blank. The remaining blood on his cheek and forehead that Jimin didn"t remove yet becomes vibrant, sticking out like a sore thumb. The ground they are sitting on becomes colder, the sounds around them louder. The entirety of this damned place–this cursed reality–jumps at Jimin like a hungry animal, reminding him mercilessly that this is, in fact, not one of his bad dreams. This is happening. This is where he is. 

And if he doesn"t find a way out then he"ll die here. He"ll die a pitiful death after living a meaningless life. But he knows that he could never conjure the mental strength to change his own future. It"s always been like that. He"s a powerless being stuck in a cosmos that operates in a way he cannot grasp. 

This society isn"t for him.

Jungkook is smiling. "I don"t think you"re horrible."

Jimin’s expression remains unchanged. "Because you see the good in everything?" 

"Maybe," Jungkook admits. "Is that so bad?" 

"Yeah, you"ll always be disappointed."

"Is disappointment that unbearable for you?" Jungkook notes. "I can live with disappointment. We"re all just human, we"re bound to disappoint each other. That doesn"t mean I have to fear it."

"I don"t fear it," Jimin snaps. He blows out a frustrated breath. Great, now he has to explain himself to this optimistic, savior-complex guy that doesn"t take a no for an answer. 

"Sounds like it, though," Jungkook teases. 

"You know what? You can clean your stupid face alone, I don"t even know why I"m talking to you."

"Because you want to," Jungkook says confidently. "I"m not that bad, come on. My face isn"t that bad either."

Jimin glares at him. 

"Fine, I won"t talk anymore," Jungkook says, holding up both of his hands in surrender. "Can I stay here at least? Or are you banishing me to the other end of our lovely cage where I will have to listen to Chungho"s tangents?" 

Jimin considers it for a second. "You loved listening to his tangents the entire day, I don"t see a problem with it now."

"You"re cruel," Jungkook laughs. "Show some mercy. I was putting on a damn good show for Chungho–" 

"Fine," Jimin says–quicker than he should have. "You can…stay." He should show some sort of mercy, right? 

Jungkook’s eyes light up. He beams. 

It"s sickening. 

"Awesome," he snickers, looking pleased. "I"ll stay here, completely silent like I"m in church."

"Suit yourself," Jimin grumbles, turning his body away. 

The promised silence lasts exactly two minutes before Jungkook opens his mouth again. 

"Don"t," Jimin warns him. 

Jungkook has the audacity to pout . "You don"t even know what I wanted to say." 

Jimin sighs theatrically. He stands up wordlessly. 

"Hey, where are you going?!" Jungkook calls out. 

In his peripheral vision, Jimin sees the other prisoners gawking at him as he walks through the cage, his converse sinking into the hay. 

Jungkook, the relentless idiot, follows him. 

"Jimin!" he exclaims. "Don"t be like this!" 

"What"s going on with you two?" Yuna yells over. 

Jimin’s eye twitches. He stops abruptly and Jungkook threatens to slam into his back, but he, too, thankfully halts at the right moment. 

"You"re causing a scene," he whispers behind Jimin. Goosebumps spread over Jimin"s nape. 

"No, you"re causing a scene," he hisses back, briefly looking over his shoulder. 

"What is going on?" Yuna asks again. Why is she so goddamn noisy? She"s standing up now, twisting her head to get a good look at Jimin and Jungkook. 

Jimin turns into her direction and calmly says, "I"m just walking around. My legs hurt."

She nods slowly, still suspicious of him. "Ah." 

"But now I"m done," Jimin stresses.

Yuna gives him a questionable look. Who cares, she"s a noisy bitch with no sense for human boundaries. Jimin is glad he"s not stuck in a cage with her. He hates to admit it, but Jungkook is probably the best option out of the five people in here. 

He plops down on the floor again, trying to get a reign over his boiling emotions. The hay under his butt is cold and he already knows he"ll be freezing for the rest of the night. 

"You"re really going to ignore me, aren"t you?" Jungkook asks.

"Yes."

"Consequent. I like it."

Jimin rolls his eyes. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Jimin doesn"t like admitting it, but tolerating Jungkook’s presence becomes easier. 

The next day, Jungkook offers to share food again after the pig and the lion come in and leave, and this time Jimin agrees. 

Today, they have nuts again (like the days before this one too). They each got a pack of cashews and peanuts, and some plain bread wrapped in plastic. Jimin hates the bread, Jungkook says he likes it, so Jimin gets some of Jungkook’s cashews and peanuts and Jimin gives him a large portion of his bread. 

Seeing this plain, soft, white bread makes him want to shake his head. His mother took him on a business trip to Germany once–back when he was too young to be left at home all the time. He had the best time ever there, although he can"t remember much besides the bread. The good, nutritious bread. 

"What are you thinking about?" Jungkook is looking at him again. 

Jimin woke up this morning and almost had a heart attack because Jungkook was looking at him. 

"German bread," he says honestly. 

"That"s oddly specific," Jungkook laughs. "You"ve been there?" 

"Once, when I was younger." 

"How was it?" 

"Don"t remember."

Jungkook scoffs incredulously. "I"m trying to start a conversation here, grumpy."

Jimin’s gaze snaps up. "Did you just call me grumpy?!" 

"Yes, and?" 

Jimin lets out a hysterical laugh. "Did someone ever tell you that you"re incredibly rude ?" 

"You just did," Jungkook shrugs, smirking. 

Jimin wants to wipe that smirk off his face. "You"re really asking to be punched in the face, aren"t you?" 

"You would punch me?" 

"I–" he stops. "I don"t condone violence." 

"Hmm, sure," Jungkook chuckles. For someone stuck in a life threatening situation he oddly smiles and laughs a lot. It creeps Jimin out a little because it"s so foreign to him to be in such close proximity to a cheerful person.

Everyone he knows and has a relationship with is either cold and detached or angry and irrational. There"s no one left who emanates the same warm energy as Jungkook. 

Jimin doesn"t know how to handle him. 

"It"s just a saying, don"t interpret too much into my words."

"Sure." Jungkook is toying with him, that much is clear. He"s dominating every conversation, teasing and cornering Jimin as he pleases. Jimin"s usual tactic to escape obnoxious people like this is to ghost them or treat them with indifference. Unfortunately, it"s kind of impossible to escape anything right now. 

Jimin gives him a stern look. "I mean it."

Jungkook shrugs arrogantly. 

Jimin groans. "It feels like I"m talking to a child." 

"I"m not interpreting anything from your words," Jungkook says. "I don"t make assumptions. "

Wow, he really won"t let anything Jimin ever said to him go, right? He remembers everything, it seems. Jimin feels uneasy. 

"Can you just shut up and eat your bread?" 

"Can I tell you something before I shut up and eat my bread?" 

Jimin considers this for a moment. "Tell me something?" 

"I actually wanted to tell you yesterday already, but you… well. You"re grumpy." 

"I"m not sure if I want to hear whatever you want to tell me anymore," Jimin says petulantly, lifting his chin and looking away dramatically. He feels petty. Jungkook shouldn"t be able to outsmart him in every interaction. Jimin hates that. He might have an inferiority complex, he can admit that, but can you blame him? Wouldn"t you too feel an immeasurable amount of rage when you had to interact with frustrating people like Jungkook? 

"And if I take it back?" Jungkook suggests. 

"Take what back?" 

"That you"re grumpy."

"No, it"s true. I"m grumpy."

Jungkook laughs. He actually laughs. "So you do have some humor in you." 

"Of course, I just don"t feel like making jokes when I"m stuck in a cage, have to eat nuts everyday and am mentally preparing to not see the beginning of next year."

"Have you considered that I cope with humor?" Jungkook notes. 

"Yeah, obviously. But coping with humor just doesn"t make any sense to me." 

Jungkook’s interest in him is relentless. He tilts his head to the side, eyes gleaming. "Why"s that?" 

Jimin lets out a scoff. "Why are you asking so many questions?" 

"Because I"m curious," Jungkook answers honestly. He has no problems speaking the truth, apparently. He doesn"t seem to overthink every word on his tongue, every emotion in his veins. He just…exists. Untroubled by the inexplicable ways of life. 

"That"s a lousy answer," Jimin says just for the sake of saying it. Jungkook being curious is enough for him–it"s a better reason than he expected. But something inside of him forces him to not give Jungkook this win too easily. 

"Okay, you"re right. There"s something else too."

There"s– what? There"s something else? Jimin did not expect that. His stomach churns. Another thing he hates about interacting with people these days; every word causes him anxiety, every change of topic sends him into a frenzy. He can never accurately predict or control the outcome of a conversation. It feels like he"s just forced to go along with it, always letting others take the reign unwillingly. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You"re not the only one with secrets," Jungkook says mysteriously. He winks at Jimin, a smoldering expression blooming on his face. His eyes are expressive, studying Jimin"s reaction as if he"s conducting an experiment. 

"I don"t have secrets," Jimin protests. 

"That"s what everyone thinks though. They think you"re hiding information from us. Since, you know, you met two of the potential kidnappers."

Jimin’s stomach drops. So this was an interrogation? Not an attempt at becoming closer to him? Jungkook just wanted to find out if Jimin was hiding something? 

"For your," he starts, raising his voice so it can be heard by the others, "and everyone else"s information. I did not keep any information to myself. Everything I told you was the truth. I don"t know anything else." 

"I told them that too," Jungkook shrugs. "The older ones are stuck ups. The girl doesn"t really speak. It"s hard to try to get anyone to work together here." 

Jimin eyes him dubiously. "So… You didn"t just try to interrogate me?" 

"I mean, I don"t need to interrogate you since you"re telling me stuff about yourself without me even trying to get you to talk," Jungkook says arrogantly. 

"I did not," Jimin corrects him. "I didn"t tell you anything."

"Am I just good at reading people then? Because I know that you have no family that you feel close to. That you"re a pessimist. Oh, and you are prone to anger, aren"t you? I see it in your eyes when the kidnappers bring us food. You dye your hair. You think you"re better than everyone and yet you hate yourself, don"t you?"

Jimin hasn"t breathed since Jungkook started talking. It feels like he just got assaulted. "Why are you saying all of this?" 

His voice sounds pathetically small. And that"s how he feels too; inferior, alone, broken apart. 

"Because you have to trust me," Jungkook stresses. "You need to– fuck, trust is not the right word. You need to help yourself by not acting like a hostile piece of shit in front of me. We should work together–" 

"You keep saying that," Jimin interrupts him. "Working together–why the fuck do you think I should work with you? You are aware that there"s no escaping, right? We"re stuck here. Just fucking accept it."

"No, we have to try," Jungkook counters, pressing his mouth together. His jaw twitches as he shakes his head once. 

"How are we supposed to try? Can you magically open the cage? Do you think you can convince those psychos to let us out? Sorry, but you"re not that charming."

"There has to be a way," Jungkook insists. "I know there has to be one." 

"Just give up. That will make it easier."

"I can"t–" 

"And stop bothering me with your optimistic bullshit. I accepted my fate–" 

"I can"t die here like my brother did!" Jungkook explodes. He raised his voice, throwing the words at Jimin. 

Jimin’s eyes would dart over to the other prisoners if he wasn"t so hypnotized by Jungkook. His mouth is parted in fascination. That was the first display of desperation he had seen from Jungkook. He can"t help but be intrigued. 

"What did you say?" 

"You know," Jungkook begins to say, nervous after his little break out. "I think…ah, fuck I shouldn"t have said this."

"Tell me," Jimin urges him. 

Jungkook"s expression is indecipherable. For a moment, his eyes flicker over the room. Is he checking if the others are listening in on them? 

Jimin waits for a moment, but his impatience wins out. "You have to tell me."

Finally, Jungkook whispers, "I think my brother was here too." 

Jimin"s blood comes to a sudden halt. Everything stops. " What? " he croaks out. 

Jungkook makes a pained face. He looks away from Jimin. "You won"t believe me."

"You haven"t even told me the whole story yet," Jimin says. "Your brother was here? He didn"t die with your parents in that car accident?" 

"No," Jungkook confirms. "It probably sounded like that when I told you, but he…he disappeared before that happened."

"Then tell me," Jimin demands. 

"Yes, okay, I will," Jungkook gives in. "But please promise to not–" 

"I won"t stand up and yell it across the room, you idiot," Jimin snaps. "I"m not like that." 

He doesn"t want to say that he"s trustworthy. He probably is, mainly because there"s no one he could tell, but he feels like he doesn"t deserve that attribute. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath. His hand is shaking slightly when he runs it through his hair. "Okay so, before my parents died–it was about two years before that–my brother vanished. It also happened around this time of the year. He was out grocery shopping and he never returned. The police didn"t find anything. Not even his car. They told us he probably just ran away, cut off contact. But– my brother wasn"t like that, okay?"

Jimin listens and the world drowns out around him. "What do you think happened?" 

"I think he ended up here," Jungkook says. There"s no doubt in his voice. "All the signs…it can"t be a coincidence."

"But why? What is no coincidence?" Jimin continues his inquiry. 

"Are you from around here?" he asks Jimin. 

"No, I live in Seoul. I was on my way to my family"s cabin when it happened."

"Well," Jungkook says. "I"m from around here. And…there are rumors, you know. Sometimes people just disappear and never return. Most just think they run away and leave their old lives behind, but I don"t think so."

"Wait– You think they all end up here?" Jimin lets out a shocked laugh. The mere thought is terrifying. 

Jungkook makes eye contact. The answer is in his eyes already, but he says it anyway. "Yes. In fact, I think they do this every year."

Jimin"s stomach drops again. "Every year?" 

"Every year around Christmas. And nobody suspects anything."

"What in the actual fuck…" Jimin trails off.

"Yeah, they– they choose people randomly but make sure no one ever finds a trace of them," Jungkook rasps. "My brother– they never even found his car, that"s why the police said he just ran away. There were no traces of blood either. His phone was turned off though. It was just too abnormal, but they didn"t do anything, didn"t take me seriously–"

"I can"t believe you ended up here too," Jimin interrupts him. He immediately regrets the words, but it"s too late. He throws a hand over his mouth. "I"m sorry, I didn"t mean to–" 

"Ironic, isn"t it? I searched for him for the last two years and now I actually found out what potentially happened to him and who did this to him. Or– or who might have kidnapped him. I don"t know what they did to him. Or what they"ll do to us." 

"Wait a second– you investigated your brother"s case after the police gave up?" 

Jungkook nods. "I had to. You know what"s even funnier? I"m actually going to a police academy. I"ll graduate next year in summer. I decided to drop out of college and went there instead. And now– now I won"t even be able to uncover my brother"s disappearance and my parents– they– they had to die without knowing what happened to him… "

Jungkook falls silent. He looks away from Jimin, wiping at his eyes. He teared up. 

Jimin grants him the moment of dignity. He doesn"t comment on his tears. He doesn"t ridicule his misery. 

"I see," Jimin whispers. "Thank you for telling me."

Jungkook makes a noncommittal sound. "Please don"t tell the others. They might think I could help them since I"m a police officer in training…" 

"I won"t," Jimin says. "I promise."

"Thank you."

He gives Jungkook a small nod. 

The conversation trails off. They sit in silence next to each other, not sure what to say anymore. Jungkook is silent for once, controlled by his own emotions. Jimin hears him sniffle once or twice. He can"t imagine being in Jungkook’s situation. He is glad he isn"t. His family hates him and he hates them, but at least they"re not dead. At least Jimin still has a semblance of belonging. What does Jungkook have? 

If he"s right about his brother, then he has the certainty that he found out what happened to him, but that it won"t matter because the chance that he"ll outlive this situation is so small, Jimin couldn"t say anything to give him hope. 

And he won"t. He might lie sometimes, but this isn"t a lie he could bring over his lips. 

Something inside of him tells him that Jungkook knew that and hence decided to let him in on that little secret. He wanted someone to suffer with him–and there"s nothing Jimin understands better than this. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Jimin never deluded himself into thinking that he was a selfless, brave or considerate person. He knows he’s pessimistic and sees the worst in people. He judges before he even hears a person talk for the first time. He has a specific image of everyone he knows inside his head, and this image rarely changes, no matter what the person does. 

And he"s 99% sure he"ll die here. 

It’s day four and Jimin has moved on from denial to rage. 

He has already peed into the bucket that they keep in the corner of the cage three times. He’s lost his dignity. This is the peak of humiliation. Just end him now, why drag it out? 

God, this is all so incredibly insulting. 

How dare these low-lives just kidnap innocent people and keep them here under these abhorrent living conditions?! 

Jimin wouldn"t say he’s prone to anger–okay, maybe he is–but anger is the only emotion he’s been actually feeling for the last four days. It was overshadowed for a while by denial, but after Jungkook told him that he thinks the kidnappers do this every year, denial has mercilessly left him. He can no longer lie to himself. 

The only good thing is that it"s easy to keep track of the days going by since two of the kidnappers come in every day to feed them. The door of the barn opens and Jimin can see the light of day for a few moments. 

Jimin has not been eating well. But who cares; why eat when you"ll be walking out of here as a corpse anyway? The nuts, chips and bread they give him don"t satiate anyone anyway. 

Since yesterday, Chungho and the old man have already fought twice for food. Jimin predicted that on the first day already, so he was right about something yet again . He really hates this–why do his predictions always come true? He wishes he could be wrong about something for once. 

But who is he fooling, he also feels a sense of satisfaction whenever it happens. A "fuck you" at the world since everyone says it"s so unpredictable and ever-changing. Do you really think that? He always asks the people. Because in his opinion, the world and its people are always the same. Always disappointing. 

That"s exactly why he mostly says no to Jungkook when he offers to share his salty chips and bland cashews with Jimin every day. No, thanks, he will dry out even more if he consumes more salt. 

He isn’t that mean to Jungkook anymore, even though his optimism still weirds him out. How can he even still have the energy to do anything? He keeps talking to Yuna and Chungho and he even assures the old man that everything will be okay. He lies to the others, acts like he"ll handle all of this.

If Jimin were the type of person to spill secrets, then he would tell the others that Jungkook is a police officer in training and that his brother most likely ended up in this hellhole too. That there might be a pattern to these kidnappers. But Jimin keeps secrets. So he won"t run his mouth. 

(And when he steals glances at Jungkook he can"t help but look beyond the facade and notice that Jungkook is barely holding himself together as well.)

Jungkook is nice, and maybe he’s not bad to look at either compared to the rest of the people in here, but he’s the complete opposite to Jimin, and that makes it completely impossible for Jimin to feel any sympathy for his foolishness. 

Whatever. The sooner Jungkook and the rest accept the inevitable outcome, the easier this will get for everyone. Jimin just didn"t have the heart to tell Jungkook that yesterday after Jungkook opened up to him. 

Just give up, what"s the big deal? He could have said. Your brother is dead. Your parents are dead. You"ll die too. Stop thinking about the tragedy of it all. 

He kept his mouth shut because a voice inside of him reminded him of his hypocrisy. Yeah, Jimin, what’s the big deal? It retorted. Admit out loud that you"ve been stuck in denial too and then you can be cruel to others. Tell them that you want to die–

He wishes his arrogant and foul thoughts would actually mirror his actions completely, but sadly enough, Jimin also has moments where he surprises himself. 

A moment like that occurs on the forth morning, when the barn opens, sunlight floods the insides of the large space and Jimin greedily drinks up the vitamin D. His skin must be so bad by now. When he touches it, he can outright feel all the pimples boiling under the surface. 

He isn’t fazed at first when the kidnappers come strolling inside, carrying plastic bags and wearing black ski masks as usual. He really isn"t. He expects it to be the pig and the lion, but he is proven wrong when he hears a new voice. 

“Man it fucking stinks in here,” a man says mockingly. 

Jimin’s head whips around at that. Suddenly, he’s alert. This is not the pig whose voice is deeper and whose entire build is broader, threatening and discomforting. This also isn"t the lion who is small and agile. 

This man stands tall too, but the way he stalks through the middle lane between the cages has something graceful to it. Something outstandingly terrifying. 

Jimin is immediately intrigued. 

The unknown man is wearing clean clothes, which is also different from the pig and the lion–they are usually covered in mud as if they do practical work every day. 

Jimin will call this one the hawk. He walks around like he’s searching the area for prey. He probably is. 

The hawk is wearing black slacks and a tight muscle shirt. It looks odd in combination with the ski mask. And it"s also weird to wear clothes like that in winter. The air is crisp and Jimin’s lungs burn from it. It heats up when the barn is closed, and that"s probably the only reason why the prisoners haven"t frozen to death yet. 

With the barn door open, the coldness floods the barn and so does the smell of something sweet and irresistible. It smells like perfume. 

“Enjoying the accommodations, guys?” the hawk asks loudly into the barn. 

He makes a 360° turn, arms spread away from him like a priest leading a prayer in church. Jimin feels like he"s going to laugh. 

He belatedly notices the other kidnapper; a smaller, petite person, with hair sticking out of the ski mask. A woman?! 

For inexplicable reasons, Jimin didn"t think a woman would be part of the kidnappers. But then again: not only men can commit horrible crimes. Women are capable of cruelty and violence too. They can be just as bad as men. 

The woman is staying back, letting her partner take the lead. 

Jimin is confused. Why are they here today? Where are the pig and the lion? 

His next question: could one of them be the person that decided to kidnap him? 

It’s very likely. 

Not only that–this also confirms that there are indeed more kidnappers than he originally estimated. Way more of them. This is organized crime. And organized crime usually only works if the group has one person that leads them. Someone charismatic and wicked. Someone that demands loyalty and punishes those who don"t deliver. 

Could that someone be the hawk? 

And if so, would that even matter? 

Jimin’s interest subsides again. It flared up for a moment, surprised by the abnormality of the situation. 

But he remembers his general attitude; he won"t try to do anything to get himself out of here. He has given up already. Actually, he’s never even put up a fight. And what for? If there are no chances at winning, why try? 

He thinks he"s being reasonable for preparing himself for the worst. 

He turns away from the bars, staring at the wooden wall. A sigh goes through him. The worst part is the constant boredom, really. 

A few feet away, Jungkook is staring at the hawk with big eyes. His lips are slightly parted. Jimin can"t blame him. 

“Tell me, how are you liking your new fate so far?” the hawk asks. His voice is smooth and cultured. He sounds sophisticated. Smarter than the pig and the lion. There’s a certain authority to it as well. It could be charming if the circumstances were different. 

Jimin stubbornly keeps his gaze focused on the wall. There’s no way he"ll answer this nut job"s questions. 

“F-fine,” the old man–that pussy–croaks out. Of course, he would be the one to cave first. The guy is closer to death than any of them and yet he doesn"t have a fucking backbone. 

“Fine? That"s it? We give you food and water, a roof over your head and it"s only ‘fine’?” 

There’s silence. 

Jimin closes his mouth and counts his breaths. 

Shrill laughter erupts. It must come from the hawk. “I’m just kidding, hahaha! Look at you! No need to look so scared, old man!”

Jimin hears the old man let out a nervous chuckle. 

“I"ll give you an extra bottle of water, what do you think?” the hawk says sweetly. “There you go.”

“R-really?!” the old man gasps. 

Jimin balls his fists together. 

“Of course,” the hawk says. “Here, take it. So, who else wants an extra bottle of water?”

Everyone screams, “Me, me, me, me!” 

Even Jimin feels the urge to call out a pathetic ‘ME!’ . Extra water for his dry throat and even drier body? He doesn"t want to say no. 

“All you guys need to do is take a nice big gulp from those buckets in the corner. Isn’t that a fair deal? I give you extra water, you guys take a sip from whatever came out of your fragile little bodies.”

There"s silence again. Silence born from shock. 

But Jimin can"t suppress his scoff. He already knew these guys were all sadists, but this demand takes it to a whole new level. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “He can"t do that to us,” he murmurs. 

But that"s exactly what he’s doing , Jimin wants to say back. 

“Come on, what’s with the hesitation! I need to see just how thirsty you are. I can"t just give you guys free water like that now, can I?”

“B-but the old man got it for free–” 

Yuna gets interrupted immediately. 

“You want to argue with me about an old man? He looks like he"s one step away from digging his own grave, don"t you think he deserves some kindness?” 

“B-but–”

“Drink the fucking piss or you won"t get anything.”

Ha. There it is: the impatience that is typical for these types of people. They make their words sound like you have an option, but in reality you have none. 

Jimin shouldn"t feel so superior for not looking at the hawk. His eyes flickered to the bucket in the corner too when the hawk announced the deal. Jungkook’s did too. And Jimin wouldn"t put it past Jungkook to decline the offer. They need the water. And Jungkook"s ego isn"t as big as Jimin"s. 

The sound of a liquid splashing around reaches Jimin"s ears. Jungkook throws a hand over his mouth. 

Jimin cannot resist the urge to check what happened. 

To his surprise, it"s the young girl who has the bucket lifted to her mouth, most of the disgusting liquid is pouring down her chin. But she swallows, letting her own urine flow down her throat. 

Jimin almost gags. 

The hawk is very still, staring at her in perverse fascination. This is a sadist"s satisfaction; a vein in his neck is pulsating, his entire body is relaxed, enjoying the show. He"s in control, he"s getting his fix, and everyone else is suffering. “Very good,” he says. He throws a bottle through the cage. “Here’s your water. Good girl, good girl. So, who"s next?”

Yuna and Chungho reach for the buckets at the same time. 

Apparently there’s nothing you won"t do when the devil stares into your eyes and offers you two bad choices–the difference being that one of them is slightly better than the other one, so you will choose that one every fucking time, throwing your dignity overboard, crushing it with your own foot, punching it with your own fist.

Jungkook is reaching for theirs too and Jimin can"t bear to witness that. 

“Don"t do it,” he snaps at him. 

Jungkook freezes. 

The entire room freezes. 

“But the water,” Jungkook says, sounding breathless. “It"s just one sip. I can do it.”

“You hear that, blondie? He can do it,” the hawk provokes. 

Jimin dares to look at the hawk. Only once. Short enough to not get drawn in by his uncovered eyes that are gleaming with an unparalleled love for violence and suffering. “But he doesn’t need to. We don"t need extra water.”

“It"s okay, Jimin. I"ll drink two, maybe he"ll give you one too if I–"

Jimin’s eyes widen. “You wouldn"t dare–" 

The hawk interrupts with clear laughter. “What a wonderful idea. How brave of you. Got a little crush on blondie, hm?”

This is the exact moment Jimin will think back to. Why did I do this? He"ll think. What possessed me? 

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses between gritted teeth at the hawk. 

A surprised laugh comes as the answer. A flutter of his eyelids behind the ski mask. “This one got bite, huh? I see how it is. Your spirit doesn"t break easily, does it?”

Jimin’s anger reaches new levels. He balls his hands to fists, fingernails digging into his palms hard. He wants to draw blood. 

He imagines that the hawk is baring his teeth by now, showing Jimin a wicked smile. He"s looking at an animal. At something wicked that shouldn"t be alive. 

In the real world, Jimin loves to crush people like this. They have such big egos, an inflated sense of self that you can destroy with one simple action. It’s like using a needle to make a balloon explode. 

But this isn’t the real world–well, it is, but it"s a distorted version, a uselessly gruesome one. How tiring. Jimin just wants to sleep. 

But his anger is white, blinding and unignorable. 

“Got nothing to say, blondie? Hell, you"d look good with your mouth stuffed with my–”

Jimin’s vision darkens. A second later, he pulls the bucket away from Jungkook, and throws its contents through the metal bars–right at the hawk. 

He’s panting. And a smile makes his lips curl up when he observes how the hawk looks down at his body, drenched in urine and other feces. His lithe body has gone tense, obviously disgusted. 

His head snaps up. 

“You’re laughing? ” he asks shrilly. “YOU"RE LAUGHING?”

The gravity of the situation doesn"t hit Jimin immediately. He bathes in his victory for a thrilling, time-stopping moment. Jungkook has placed a worried hand on his shoulder, but Jimin can"t feel it. He feels rage, satisfaction, and his dignity is back.  

“Yeah, you look funny,” Jimin replies. "Can"t help but laugh."

Some part of his brain is rebelling. Maybe his survival instinct. 

The hawk is fuming. Jimin hears his erratic breaths, the way his lips smack together in rage. 

The other prisoners are all staring at the scene with shocked faces, fear shining in their eyes. 

“Bring me something sharp,” the hawk orders monotonously. 

“What?” the woman"s voice is quiet, hoarse. As if she doesn"t talk much usually. She takes a few steps towards the hawk, acting all worried. 

Jimin hates her. He hates everyone. He hates the world. He hates himself. He hates that this little act of bravery doesn"t matter at all in the grand scheme of things. 

“I said,” the hawk repeats, wet chest heaving up and down in erratic breaths. “Bring me something sharp. Something that cuts well.”

“O-okay,” the woman sputters. Then she’s out of the barn, jogging into the distance. 

For a split second, Jimin wishes he could follow her. 

But he has nowhere to escape. He is stuck with his own metaphorical demons and the humanoid demons standing outside the cage. 

The hawk does something no one expects. 

He pulls his ski mask off. 

It would be much easier for Jimin to fuel his hatred if the hawk was ugly. But he is not; he has an angular shaped face, high cheekbones and piercing eyes. He is objectively beautiful and Jimin wants to gauge his eyes out. He wants to belittle his beauty and tell him that it"s as meaningless and useless as them doing this to innocent people. 

“J-Jimin,” Jungkook stutters, trying to get his attention. 

“You"ll pay for this, blondie,” the hawk spits. 

Jimin has no words. He stumbles backwards–right into Jungkook. 

“Jimin, I–” 

Terror seizes Jimin then; he sees the woman coming back. 

She"s holding a saw. 

“Give it to me,” the hawk commands. She complies; the saw wanders into his fair-skinned hands. His fingernails look manicured. He"s eager to look perfect. Infallible. It"s part of his arrogance. 

“What are you going to do to him?” Jungkook asks, voice shaking. He is too sweet for his own good. How dare he confront the hawk like that? 

The hawk ignores him. “Open cage two. Let"s get that bitch out of there. I think he owes me a finger. Or maybe his tongue? Hm, or his whole hand? A finger alone would be boring, don"t you agree?”

Jimin hasn"t blinked since the hawk took his mask off. 

And then the door of Jimin"s cage opens with a loud screech. 

Theoretically, this would be his way out of here. He could squeeze himself past the hawk, somehow dodge his saw and also run past the woman. She probably won"t be much of an obstacle. 

“What– what are you–”

Jungkook, the poor thing, sounds terrified. This would be his way out too, but he hasn"t moved an inch, staring at the open cage like it"s a monster. 

Jimin feels sorry then. He hopes the hawk won"t punish Jungkook as well. 

The hawk doesn"t walk into the cage. That would be below him. He jerks his head, indicating for Jimin to come out willingly. “Come on, blondie, you knew your little outburst would have consequences. I’ll let you live, don"t worry; dead are you useless to me. You just have to pay for what you did in blood. It"s a fair trade.”

It"s not a fair trade. Not at all. 

Jimin can only stare at the saw and its rusty edges that will probably harm a precious part of his body very soon. 

“I don"t have all day, blondie,” the hawk drawls. “Come out now and I"ll go easy on you. If you test my patience I"ll make it worse for you.”

This is it. Jimin will just die now. It"s needless to say that he feels a weird sense of relief. 

“Just kill me,” he blurts. 

The hawk laughs. It"s a disbelieving laugh. “You want to die?”

He asks that as if a death wish is the most nonsensical thing he can imagine. And it probably is for him. Death is what he brings upon others, there"s no way he would desire that for himself. Nor would his narcissism allow him to feel sympathy for those who crave it. 

“Yeah, what"s the use of prolonging this bullshit? Just get it over with and kill me," Jimin says. 

The hawk’s eyes light up–like a child that just got his favorite toy placed into their hands. It’s grotesque. His teeth are white, but one of them is a little chipped. As if someone smashed his face against a wall before and broke his teeth. 

Jimin swallows thickly. He takes a step forward. 

“Jimin, what are you doing?! Stay here– are you stupid?” Jungkook is terrified. But is he really terrified for Jimin? Or just for himself? 

“Jungkook, stay quiet! He didn"t want it any other way!” Yuna, that traitorous bitch, screams. 

But Jimin keeps on walking. He gives her his middle finger. “Fuck you, Yuna.”

“Looks like your friends are turning on you,” the hawk grins. “What a delightful turn of events.”

Jimin has reached the exit. His foot breaches the line that separates him from the cage and false freedom. 

“Come here, darling,” the hawk purrs. “I"ll make it quick.”

Thank God, Jimin thinks. He’d rather not have a painful death. He wants it quick and clean. Anything else would be embarrassing.

Behind Jimin, Jungkook has gone very still. He doesn"t even try to run out of the cage that is still open, probably too scared to even entertain the thought. If Jimin were him, he"d take this once in a lifetime chance and run for his fucking life. 

But he"s not Jungkook. He has to face the hawk because of his own stupidity. 

Jimin takes one step into his direction and that"s when the hawk launches at him, digging his claws into Jimin"s flesh. 

“Got you,” he snarls, slapping Jimin so hard across the face, Jimin loses balance immediately. 

The next thing he realizes is that he’s on all fours, saliva dripping out of his mouth. Or is it blood? 

A kick to his back makes him fall forward, right onto his face. 

He wasn"t ready for it. 

For any of it. 

Another kick lands right in his stomach, making him gag. The hawk"s squeaky clean loafers hit Jimin"s abdomen with deadly precision. Jimin groans, air rapidly rushing out of him. His muscles pull together uncomfortably, pain spreading everywhere. 

His right wrist gets seized harshly and then he gets pulled forward towards the small bench positioned at the wall. 

His hand gets placed on the wood, secured by firm fingers wrapped around his thin wrist. He writhes around, tries to free himself, but he is weak and pathetic. He has no energy, no resources against the hawk. 

“What a little darling you are, hm?” the hawk"s lips are right at his ear, whispering the words softly. “I hope you"re left-handed.”

Then he giggles, the sound of it echoing through Jimin"s head. His concussion apparently isn"t gone yet; the symptoms reappear at once. 

“Kill me,” he slurs. 

“What was that? Speak up, blondie."

“Kill me,” he tries again, head lolling to the side. He doesn’t even try to escape anymore. 

“Oh, sorry that is not an option,” the hawk sing-songs. “Not now, at least.”

What is that supposed to mean? Why can he not die? Why does no one ever fulfill his wishes? 

“Now, this will hurt,” the hawk announces, making sure Jimin knows what pain is awaiting him. 

Jimin doesn"t register his surroundings anymore. He’s gone into shock. 

He sees how the hawk traces a line right at Jimin"s wrist, caressing the skin like he"s a sculptor preparing new marble. Jimin is his new project, his new attempt at performing a brilliant job of perfection. 

When he"s done with deciding where he will cut Jimin, he takes the saw, holding it above Jimin"s wrist. “Ah, these take forever to cut through bones. Guess I lied; this won"t be quick.”

He shrugs carelessly, this means he"ll be able to prolong this sadistic act. He lowers the saw and Jimin’s head explodes. 

The first cut doesn"t really hurt. It feels like someone pinched him a little. The blood comes a few seconds later, red and inviting. 

Jimin’s mouth is parted. 

“Why don"t you scream for me?” the hawk wonders. He actually sounds genuine. He deepens the cut, making Jimin see stars. 

But before he can continue his sadistic game, a voice cuts through the air. 

“WAIT!”

The saw gets lifted from Jimin"s wrist. 

“PUNISH ME INSTEAD!”

The hawk halts. “Did I just hear this correctly?”

He stands up abruptly, rising to full height. 

“Take me,” someone says. “He doesn"t deserve this.”

“But you do?” the hawk asks, laughing in disbelief. 

The hawk kicks Jimin again. Jimin falls over immediately. He never stood a chance. “You hear this, darling? Your little friend over here wants to take your place, isn"t that heroic? Ah, don"t look at me like that, you"ll get wrinkles.”

Jimin doesn"t know what he"s looking like. He’s still hoping to die very soon. 

But his head really hurts. His eyes are heavy. Is he about to lose consciousness? Please, make him lose consciousness. Please, please, please . 

“Fine, you can take his place,” he says eventually. “I"m a kind man. And this one is about to pass the fuck out anyway. That would make this incredibly boring.”

Jimin thinks he breathes out in relief. “Kill me…”

The hawk groans. “Jesus Christ, your death wish will be fulfilled soon enough, blondie.”

Someone pulls him away from the bench. He gets dragged over the hay, feeling how little straws of it get stuck in his open mouth. It reminds him of the moment where he got dragged over the asphalt after Taehyung and Namjoon helped him change his tire. What an odd déjà vu. 

Jungkook walks past him. Legs wobbling. 

Only then, at that very moment, does Jimin realize Jungkook is about to lose his hand. His heart skips a beat. He whimpers helplessly, trying to murmur Jungkook’s name. Why would that idiot take his place? 

He doesn"t get it, he doesn"t get it, he doesn"t get it. 

“Come here, let"s take a look at your hands. Left or right?”

“W-what?”

“Fine, so the left one, okay.”

No , Jimin thinks. Not the left one. Jungkook is left handed. Jimin knows. He could tell by the way Jungkook uses his left hand for everything. 

No! He screams. Do any words go past his lips? 

NOOOO–

His legs land on the floor again, the coldness of the hay sinks into his bones, and Jimin is out like a light before he witnesses Jungkook losing his hand. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

The hawk"s sweet perfume is still lingering in the air when Jimin wakes up with a loud gasp. 

It"s pitch-black dark inside the barn. And it"s silent, which makes it even worse for Jimin. His panic amplifies and he second-guesses his perception; is the hawk still here, waiting for him in the dark to cut his tongue out of his mouth? Is he coming back tomorrow to punish Jimin again? 

And then, at once, he remembers who actually took his punishment and his brain short-circuits. He feels nauseous, his body is throbbing in pain, but he ignores it. 

Blindly, he crawls around in his cage, searching for Jungkook. He only grasps thin air with his hands, despair and fear growing to an unignorable size inside his chest. They"re climbing up his throat and he"s close to throwing up. 

“Jungkook,” he sobs. “Jungkook, where are you?”

He can’t even hear Jungkook"s breathing. He can"t see him anywhere in this cold and impregnable darkness. 

They took him away, didn"t they? Did he die from blood loss when the hawk cut off his hand?! Is that it? They didn"t even let Jimin say goodbye? 

His thoughts will shock him later. He is not someone who gets attached to people, especially not to awfully optimistic and jovial people like Jungkook. 

But he sacrificed himself for Jimin, didn"t he? He proved himself as worthy. 

God, why can"t Jimin find him? Where is he? 

“Jimin?”

The voice is barely a whisper.

It comes from behind Jimin. 

“Is that you?” 

Jimin lets out a whimper and immediately crawls towards the sound of the voice on all fours. 

He collides with something and falls to the side. He briefly groans out in pain before stretching out his hands again to feel for the obstacle that is simultaneously his destination. 

“Jimin– ouch– Jimin, you’re squeezing my arm–”

Jimin doesn’t care. “I need to make sure you"re not bleeding. I– I need to–”

A hand snatches his wrist away. “Jimin,” Jungkook says intently. “What are you searching for? Are you okay? You were unconscious the entire day, I…was worried, but I fell asleep and…”

“What do you mean? The hawk– he–”

“Who?”

“That psycho!" Jimin exclaims, correcting himself. Jungkook doesn"t know about the nicknames he gives their kidnappers. "You screamed that you would take the punishment! He wanted to cut your hand off!”

Jimin doesn"t understand the world anymore. Not that he ever truly did, but he did think his understanding was a little more than just superficial. In fact, at some moments, he even thought it ran veins-deep, and kept him on his toes most of the time and eventually made him develop an aversion to almost everything. 

“Oh, that,” Jungkook mumbles. Why does he sound… embarrassed? 

Jimin wants to see his face. He needs to see his body language in order to assess this situation. 

“He didn"t take my hand, don’t worry. He just beat me up a little and then threw me back into the cage after he was satisfied. He chickened out after he saw that you were knocked out. I was kinda…I guess I was really out of it because the situation was so fucking unreal and– fuck, I don"t know, my brain just short-circuited, I guess.”

Jimin blinks dumbly. He feels how Jungkook removed his hands from his wrist. 

“Sorry, didn"t want to, uh…” he mumbles awkwardly, realizing he was touching Jimin the entire time. 

Jimin doesn’t think when he makes his next move. It’s so uncharacteristic for him that he doesn"t even have time to suppress the urge because it just falls over him like a compulsion. 

Somehow–for reasons that are really beyond Jimin–he throws his arms around Jungkook. 

It"s a clumsy hug because it’s dark and they can"t really see anything besides shapes and outlines. But Jimin quickly adjusts and presses his face into the crease of Jungkook"s neck, breathing in the authentic smell of a real human for the first time in a few years. 

To his surprise, Jungkook actually reciprocates. 

It didn"t occur to him that rejection wasn’t going to be the natural outcome of this stupid, impulsive behavior. 

To make it even more surprising, Jungkook pulls him closer and holds him so tightly, it actually makes it hard to breathe. His lungs get squeezed together, ribs feel like they"re close to breaking and Jimin still thinks, harder, please. Hug me harder . 

He doesn"t. His lips almost brush Jungkook’s skin. Everything is disturbingly quiet for a moment. 

“God, I needed that,” Jungkook says hoarsely when he releases Jimin again. 

Jimin feels…his cheeks feel hot. He touches them idly, suddenly glad that Jungkook can"t actually see him. 

“Thank you for being okay,” Jungkook says genuinely.

Jimin’s breath hitches. How do people reply to these sorts of compliments? Is this even a compliment?! 

“You"re not going to say anything?” Jungkook says, amusement evident in his voice. 

Jimin feels caught. “Sorry, I– I can"t really comprehend the situation. I should be the one thanking you, but then you just said that and I"m confused…”

“Just promise me you won"t freak out like that again. Especially not in front of that guy. He…he seems especially deranged.”

“He is definitely more intelligent than the pig and the lion,” Jimin snorts. “But, yeah, I won"t do something like that again… I think.”

Lie, he would do it again. But he"d make sure he actually dies this time. 

He adds, “I think I lost my mind for a moment, I wasn"t thinking when I did that. I felt so angry and when I"m angry I– you already saw what happens when I get angry.”

“I"m sure it would be a sight to behold under different circumstances,” Jungkook says, voice an octave lower than before. 

Jimin"s cheeks heat up again. He cannot fathom why. 

“You are so stupid,” he tells Jungkook. Mainly out of frustration. Partly because he might need to push Jungkook away from him. It"s not a good idea to feel some sort of guilt for him now. The guy willingly offered up his hand, it"s not like Jimin asked him to. He never gave him any reason to either. 

Jungkook just did it. 

And perhaps that is even more impressive than Jimin could ever admit. 

He rarely does things out of pure selflessness and especially not things on this scale. It is sheer improbability to him. Absolutely inefficient and useless. 

“I am?” Jungkook laughs. 

He thinks Jimin is joking. Jimin isn"t. People like Jungkook are stupid. They"ll end up dying in some act of alleged heroism. They give away too much of themselves and never see life the way it actually is. They cannot fathom that the bad indeed outwins the good most of the time. 

Obviously, perception is subjective and life is basically a huge dualistic concept that we get born into with the task to decipher it and find our rightful place. 

Jimin’s place is definitely on the opposite side of Jungkook"s, but that makes it all the more tempting. 

“Yeah, you shouldn"t have done that,” Jimin says hoarsely. “You could have died.”

"You too," Jungkook retorts confidently. "We"ll all die one day anyways."

Jimin scoffs incredulously. "I don"t get you. You– ugh."

"I what?" Jungkook asks. 

"Nothing, I…I never know how to find the right words."

"That"s okay."

Jungkook"s hand finds Jimin"s again. This time he touches it softly. His hand, surprisingly, is quite warm compared to Jimin"s ice cold one. Suddenly, Jimin wants to take it and rub his frozen cheeks against it to warm himself up. He wants to keep Jungkook close to escape some of the cold that he can"t fight all on his own. But Jimin is not a team player. He doesn"t know, nor wants to, give himself to someone else–much less to a stranger. 

He is the type of person that takes things from others and doesn"t even think about asking for permission. 

He"s the type of person that you stay away from if you don"t want to feel like you"re never getting anything in return. 

Jungkook may have saved his life, but that doesn"t mean anything. 

It doesn"t. 

…Right? 

"By the way," Jungkook starts. "Why do you keep calling them these names? What was it? The hawk? And the pig?" 

"Oh, I gave them names," Jimin explains, feeling silly. "There"s the pig, the lion and the hawk." 

"Let me guess, the hawk is the one who wanted to rid us of our hands, the pig is the one who actually looks like a pig, and the lion is the small one?" 

"Exactly," Jimin smiles. Jungkook can"t see his smile and that makes it even better. He almost grins, feeling a weird dopamine hit. 

"I like that. Do you mind me using them?" 

"No, not at all."

Jungkook hums. "I"m glad you"re okay, Jimin. I…I can"t imagine being alone in this cage."

Jimin’s sense of elation disappears at once. "Me neither," he whispers. 

"Oh? Did you just say you can"t imagine being in this cage without me the annoying optimist–" 

Jimin slaps Jungkook. He thinks he hits his arm, but he"s not too sure. He just aimed for one random part of him. 

"Shut up," Jimin complains. "You"re still very much insufferable."

"I am?" 

"Yes, indeed."

"Come on, be honest. Say that you like me."

Jimin doesn"t like the way his mouth spreads into a smile. "I don"t like you. You"re a stranger."

"Ouch, that hurt," Jungkook says, feigning offense. "You offer to sacrifice your precious hand and in return you get insulted as a stranger."

"No one asked you to present yourself as the lamb to sacrifice, you dipshit," Jimin says sarcastically. And maybe with a tiny bit of venom. 

"That"s true. I"m just teasing," Jungkook appeases. "Don"t get mad at me, grumpy."

Jimin sighs. "I"m so tired."

The mood shifts at once. "Me too," Jungkook says. "I"m so tired, I just want to go to sleep and wake up somewhere warm and safe."

"Yeah," Jimin agrees. He bites his bottom lip. An indescribable sadness fills him. 

"Do you want to go to sleep?" Jungkook wonders carefully. "I mean, I could keep on talking to you if you want to. I won"t be annoying, I promise." 

"No, sleep sounds good," Jimin says. There"s a tiredness to his voice that he hasn"t heard from himself before. A moment ago he felt energized by Jungkook"s jokes, but the feeling disappeared so quickly and left a wasteland behind; it was only covering up the insane emptiness inside of him that has been getting bigger and bigger. 

"Okay, let"s lie down," Jungkook says softly. He grabs Jimin"s shoulders, and guides him to the ground. 

Jimin goes willingly. He lowers his body to the hay, curls up into a ball and closes his eyes, pretending that he"s lying on a beach, the blazing sun shining down on him. He"s on vacation, enjoying his life, wishing it would never end. 

Jungkook settles down right next to him, his body emanating a sense of warmth. He doesn"t touch Jimin, he only lies there, silently communicating that he"s feeling the same loneliness and helplessness as Jimin.

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

The next day, Jimin wakes up with Jungkook"s hand on his arm. He earns himself a judgy look from Yuna. 

But he doesn"t care. 

That same day, he lies down closer to Jungkook, desperate for the warmth his body provides.

This is nothing personal. Nothing Jimin has to overthink. 

He keeps eating his chips and nuts and tasteless bread. 

He even indulges in pointless conversations with Chungho and the old man.

He exchanges words with Jungkook. Words that feel meaningful somehow. Words that Jimin lets linger on his tongue. 

They also all collectively try to get the young girl to eat and talk with them, but she"s so thoroughly traumatized that she keeps quiet and only watches them out of small, fear-stricken eyes. 

The hawk doesn"t return. Only the pig and the lion greet them every day, or maybe every afternoon, or maybe even every night. Sometimes it"s dark outside when they enter, sometimes it feels like they have just been there when they enter again and give them food. 

Winter progresses and the days become indistinguishable from the nights. 

Time loses its meaning and Jimin feels forced to cling to something else than counting the days. Jimin has no idea what the time concept means anymore. The only thing he knows is that he doesn"t want to lose his mind–he has to stay sane. 

And there"s only one way to guarantee this; he"ll have to use Jungkook and his sickeningly sweet words that speak of optimism, or better days, and of a world outside this one, of hope. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

He cannot say how many days have gone by. At this point, the kidnapper"s strategy–if it actually exists–to confuse them is working and Jimin is so delirious he also just stopped caring. 

By night, he and Jungkook hold each other–both of their bodies shivering so hard from the cold, Jimin wakes up with fingernail-shaped indents on his skin where Jungkook held onto him. The same are not found on Jungkook"s body because Jimin has bitten his fingernails down so hard that there"s barely any nail left and they"re constantly bleeding and hurting. But the pain is distracting and Jimin welcomes it with open arms. 

In some sense (something he can barely admit to himself), he enjoys the way Jungkook clings to him, the way he holds Jimin tightly and the way Jimin holds him in return–as if they are the last link to humanity and if they don"t stick together the world will burn down. 

And he likes how Jungkook looks at him, how he stretches one arm out when the pig and the lion come in to bring food and water. The hawk never comes back, but Jungkook still always fears he does. More so than Jimin. 

Jimin also likes how they whisper to each other at night when the other prisoners are already asleep and it"s only them in the darkness, hands intertwined and lips so close they can breathe each other in like it"s a drug. 

I got you, Jungkook constantly murmurs, a tentative hand lingering on Jimin"s arm, a reassuring expression on his dirt-stained face. 

Jimin has the impression that he says it for his own sake. A mantra he repeats to keep himself sane. 

Jimin never says anything back. After all, he and Jungkook are still strangers, forced to indulge in proximity in order to survive. When he looks at the other cages, he sees nothing else; they are holding each other too, desperate to win against the cold. 

Idly, Jimin wonders if it"s Christmas yet. If someone found the presents he hid in his apartment. 

Then again; why did he hide them when no one besides him enters his apartment anyway? 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

In his teenage years, he watched a lot of zombie movies and shows. He was kind of obsessed with them. The found family aspect, the let"s-stick-together-whatever-happens concept, the unrealisticness of it all. It was addictive. Not that he"d ever want to be a part of a show like that. He"d rather die than run around the country trying to escape zombies or other nasty creatures. That"s not his thing. Really. He is too pessimistic to survive longer than a day. He"d be the first to shoot himself if the apocalypse ever came. 

Which is why he"s also not optimistic about this entire situation. Or, well, he wasn"t . 

The situation is a little different now. Because of a single variable the entire equation is different. 

And that variable is Jungkook. 

Jimin is intrigued by him against his own will. 

Strangely enough, he feels like if he follows Jungkook he might have a chance. If anyone could survive, it would be him. He has the most knowledge, the best qualifications. He"ll be a police officer, after all. Jimin hasn"t actually seen his physique, but he assumes he"s muscular and strong (it feels like that when Jungkook holds him at night). 

He could probably kill the lion and the hawk with one blow and perhaps take down the pig as well. Jimin doesn"t know about the rest of the kidnappers, but in his desperation-induced thoughts everything is possible. 

Especially because Jungkook keeps theorizing loudly about trying to dig a tunnel with his bare hands. Or about destroying the wooden wall somehow. 

The others deny everything. Say it"s not possible to dig a tunnel underneath the cages. And what should they use to destroy the thick wood the barn is made of? 

This is another reason why survival situations are not for him: he hates this feeling of helpless desperation, of your thoughts repeating non-stop, of your hands shaking, chest heaving up and down, throat dry, lips busted, legs wobbly. He"s alert at all times, and yet it feels like he has gone numb to all situations. It"s an incomprehensible juxtaposition. 

Waiting for something to happen might be the worst kind of torture for Jimin. 

The uncertainty of it makes him go mad. He waits all day long for the kidnappers to come and murder them or to beat them unconscious and ship them to another country where they"ll all end up as organ donors or as prostitutes. He already imagines himself stumbling through a narrow alley at night, rain pouring down on him. He"s holding his side, blood running through his fingers, mixing with the rain and creating a never-ending river of crimson. Not long, and he"ll die from blood loss or an infection. His kidney now belongs to some rich, corrupt person who gives no fucks about anyone else. 

He"s mentally prepared for that to happen but the fact that it"s approximately been a week and a half–based on his not really accurate observations–and none of these things have occurred yet makes Jimin lose confidence. 

Because he cannot fathom anything worse than that. What will they do to them if not any of the previously listed things? 

What will they do if the kidnappers come to get them and they haven"t escaped by then? 

What will they do if they can"t successfully dig a tunnel like Jungkook keeps suggesting? 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

The answers to most of Jimin"s questions present themselves one night, after almost everyone has already fallen asleep and only soft breathing can be heard. 

A loud click goes through the barn. The sound makes Jimin flinch. 

Jimin immediately lifts his head that was resting on his folded up hands. 

"What was that?" he whispers at Jungkook. 

But Jungkook doesn"t register his voice, he"s still sleeping, neatly tucked against Jimin’s back. Jimin doesn"t remember when he came so close and wrapped his arms around him, but he isn"t opposed to it now either. It"s the opposite: a warm, fuzzy feeling spreads in his belly when he looks at Jungkook"s relaxed face. His lips are slightly parted, eyebrows pulled together like he is dreaming something intense. He looks at peace. 

Jimin decides to let him sleep. Carefully, he removes Jungkook"s arm from his waist and sits up. 

He can"t hear any other suspicious sounds but the click was extremely loud, he"d be surprised if no one else heard it. 

"Is anyone awake?" he asks into the barn, raising his voice slightly. 

"I am," Yuna replies. 

Another sound goes through the barn, and this time it"s the light bulbs that turn on. 

Jimin squints, closing his eyes again after the harsh light hits them. It wakes up Jungkook too. A tremor goes through him and his body tenses. "What is going on?" 

"The– the door is open," Jimin deadpans, staring open-mouthed at the open cage of Yuna and the young girl. 

Yuna is sitting cross-legged on the hay, looking as confused as Jimin. "It"s open."

"How can that be?" Jungkook wonders. "I mean–" 

There it is again; that loud sound. 

This time, Jimin sees what it is. 

It"s the cage opening, and he remembers where he heard the sound before; the same thing occurred when the hawk ordered to open his cage. 

Now two cages are open. All six of them are awake, unsure what to do. 

"I can"t believe this is happening," Chungho says. "They"re letting us go?" 

Jungkook shakes his head. "I doubt it. Then our cage would be open too. It seems like this is a system failure of some sort. I don"t think this is supposed to be happening."

"That"s even better then," Yuna chimes in. "That means they won"t be expecting us to be gone when they come back tomorrow."

"What?" Jimin blurts. "What do you mean by that?" 

Yuna ignores him for a moment. She gets up from the floor. Her hand brushes the open door of the cage, caressing the metal like you would caress an old lover you"ve learned to hate. 

Her gaze slices Jimin. "Don"t worry, blondie, we"ll get help. By tomorrow we"ll all be safe at our homes again. Let"s go, guys. We should leave as quickly as possible. Since we have no clue how far away from civilization we are."

Jimin’s breathing accelerates. "You will just leave while Jungkook and I are still imprisoned?" 

Her gaze is cold. "Yes. I"m going to take my chance."

The others seem to agree. They get up quietly, avoiding Jimin"s gaze. 

"You guys can"t be for real," Jungkook laughs. "What if they notice you guys are gone and will punish us for it?" 

Chungho keeps his head low as he scurries out of the cage to meet Yuna at the exit of the barn. The old man follows him, trotting over the ground like an old cow. 

The young girl is the last to leave the cage. She blinks, eyes flickering around nervously. 

Anger sizzles through Jimin"s veins. "I can"t believe this."

"Don"t take this personally," Yuna says. "It"s not like we can open your guys" cage. If we could, trust me, we would. But it"s not possible."

Jimin lets out an incredulous chuckle. "Fuck you."

"She"s right, Jimin," Jungkook points out. "They can get help. It"ll be okay. If the kidnappers come back…then we"ll just say we were asleep when their cages opened."

"Exactly," the old man says. "We"ll hurry and get the police. Everything will be okay." 

"You should leave now," Jungkook advises. "Run. And don"t let anyone see you."

Yuna waves a dismissive hand. "We"ll be okay." 

Instead of running, they walk out the barn slowly one after the other with Yuna up front. 

Jimin watches until even the last one of them disappears into the night. 

"I"m speechless," Jimin says. "Did you see how she enjoyed leaving us here?" 

Jungkook shrugs. "I don"t know. Let"s just hope they"ll find help quickly. I"d love to be home by tomorrow." 

Jimin bites down on his tongue to suppress any hateful comments. He could continue complaining about Yuna and the others, but he takes a step back and imagines what he would have done if he were them. The answer is obvious: he would have done the same. And he would have not lost so much time by talking. He would have started running the minute the door opened. 

But, of course, luck was not on his side again. Their cage is still firmly closed, keeping them locked up. Dehumanizing them.

He sinks back. "I swear to God, if they don"t come back quickly with the police. What if the kidnappers find out that they–" 

A piercing scream cuts through the air, making him fall silent. 

A woman"s scream. 

Jungkook and Jimin"s eyes lock. Jimin"s mouth hangs open. 

"Did you just hear that?" Jungkook whispers fearfully. 

Jimin nods, pressing his lips into a thin line. His heart skipped a fucking beat, of course he heard that scream. 

"Who was that?" 

"It– it sounded like Yuna," Jungkook says unsurely. 

"Do you think they…?" 

"Something"s not right. Something is very odd about this."

Jungkook is right, something about this entire ordeal has been sketchy since the beginning, but Jimin is not in a position of power that he would need to get to the bottom of anything. He"s the prey in this scenario, the naive and hopeless thing at the bottom of the food chain. 

Their heads wander to the wide open barn door, the darkness of the night flooding the entrance of the barn. 

Jimin thinks he hears laughter, people running. More screams. Fearful screams and delighted screams. He hears giggles. 

Suddenly, a person stumbles back into the barn. 

Jungkook, who is right behind him, tenses, his hands digging into Jimin"s shoulder. 

"Who is that?" Jimin whispers to Jungkook. 

"I can"t make out–" 

The person comes closer, stepping into the light. 

Jimin’s breath hitches, he falls back, hands falling to his side. 

It"s the young girl.

She"s holding her stomach, pressing down on the place where her liver is located. Jimin isn"t sure why he knows this. He did study medicine for one semester, but he hated it and switched to accounting. He ended up hating that even more, but switching a second time was no option. 

"Are you okay?" Jungkook calls out. "Can you tell us what happened? Is help coming? Did you manage to–" 

Again, he cuts himself off, falling silent when the young girl lifts her head, stopping right in front of their cage. 

Blood drips from her nose and lips. Crimson blood is also dripping through her fingers, coming from a wound on her side. It"s thick and flows in slow, steady motions.  

"You"re bleeding," Jungkook comments now too, eyes widening. "What– what happened? Oh my God–" 

The young girl looks absolutely frightened when her eyes meet Jimin"s. They"re huge and so child-like, Jimin thinks she might be younger than he thought. Fifteen, maybe. Way too young to be here. Her bottom lip wobbles, her entire body is shaking. She opens her mouth, and Jimin hangs on her lips like a man on death row, waiting to be executed. 

"They–" she starts, her voice as dry as sandpaper. "They hunted us."

Jimin’s heart explodes. Stars cloud his vision. 

"What?" he snaps, letting out a dry laugh. 

That explains the screams. The mad giggles. They were hunting them? Because they escaped? 

So– it was not a coincidence that the cages opened? 

"They hunted you?" Jungkook questions darkly. Jimin can feel his rapidly beating heart against his back, and it makes him realize that when the young girl–whose name he never asked for–came in and he was so surprised, he fell into Jungkook. He"s leaning against him and he didn"t even notice. 

Awkwardly, he makes ministrations to crawl away from him, but muffled footsteps outside let him freeze to a block of ice. 

"Jungkook," he hisses. "Someone is coming."

Ironically enough, he"s never felt more safe in this cage than now.

The young girl also notices the footsteps. "Oh no," she croaks. "He found me. Oh no. No. No, no, no–" 

She tries to run away. She dashes through the barn, hiding in the nearest corner because there"s only one exit. 

"Who found you?" Jimin says shrilly. 

Jimin’s question gets answered by the person entering the barn. 

"I did."

Jungkook and Jimin both look at the person who entered at the same time. 

It"s none other than the hawk. 

"You," Jimin breathes, heart skipping a beat. 

The hawk is not wearing a mask again. Apparently he really doesn"t care that Jimin and Jungkook are able to see his face. That they could identify him. 

He is grinning widely, lips stretched into an ugly grimace. Sprinkles of blood cover his face. He"s wearing a tracksuit this time, black pants, black shirt, black shoes. He could completely melt with the night. 

And now he is trying to finish what he started. 

"Come out, princess," he exclaims, drawing the words out. "Come and play with me!"

The young girl is not hiding well. Everyone can see her cowering in the corner, hiding her face, legs pulled to her chest. She"s shivering in fear, shaking so hard it"s unbearable to watch. 

But Jimin can"t look away. He won"t look away. 

The hawk sighs, making an annoyed gesture with his arms. Jimin sees the knife strapped to a belt around his waist. It doesn"t fit his overall image, it looks out of place. The knife is already covered in blood–probably the young girl"s blood. 

Did he hunt her and stab her abdomen? 

"You can"t be doing this!" Jungkook screams at the hawk. "She’s just a girl! She"s underage, for fuck"s sake!" 

The hawk"s almond shaped eyes pierce through Jungkook. "Do I look like I care? She"s my prey, she will be dealt with." A small pause. The corner of his mouth twitches. "Same way you guys will be dealt with."

Jimin pales at the words. He falls back, lands on his butt. 

Everything happens frighteningly fast after those words. 

The hawk straightens his spine and cracks his neck–like a barbaric war preparation. He grabs the knife from his belt, fingers wrapping around the handle in a comfortable manner. He"s done this before. He"s held the knife exactly like that many, many times before. 

In three long steps alone, he is able to reach her, seize her by her long, dark hair, and pull her out of the corner roughly. Veins are visible on the back of his bony hand. They pulsate. They twist over his knuckles. 

A second later, the girl is lying on her back and he"s over her, grabbing her hands in a way that immobilizes her. 

"Yeah, fight back," he laughs derisively. "Come on, try a little harder. I like it when they fight. Makes it interesting."

She"s kicking her legs, winding back and forth, twisting her body beneath him. But it is useless. Her desperate screams are incoherent, Jimin can"t make out any specific words. He only sees her hair flowing around, looking as dark as obsidian. 

And then the hawk rams the knife into her abdomen once–right next to the already bleeding wound. 

She stills. 

Her left leg twitches like she"s a bug that landed on her back, unable to turn around. 

The hawk lets the knife stay inside her body for a moment. He"s drooling, a string of saliva is hanging from his mouth, giving him a grotesque image. It takes away all that beauty his face might conjure. It peels away that layer of arrogance and unravels the poorly crafted facade he probably walks around with in public. 

A moan of pain leaves the girl"s mouth. Jimin sees how she tries to touch the knife, hands coated in her own blood. 

The hawk doesn"t let her. In one aggressive motion, he rips the knife out of her again, holding it high above his head like it"s a precious treasure. 

A sigh comes from her, short and abrupt. She slumps into herself, hands slipping from her stomach. 

The hawk waits a moment, eyes scanning her rapidly. The fire is still burning, his hunger hasn"t subsided. And, as if she was a pig getting slaughtered, a lamb being sacrificed, he slits her throat. 

Her coughs don"t continue for long. She bleeds out quickly, life leaving her so fast it"s almost thrilling to watch. Her entire body loses tension. A minute later, she"s as unmoving as a still-life painting, the image of her bathing in her own blood immortalized forever in Jimin"s mind. 

The hawk rises from the ground like a death angel that just fulfilled God"s holy work. 

He looks pleased with himself. His eyes are shining in accomplishment and don"t leave her lifeless form as he walks away in slow steps, admiring his own work from a distance. He smacks his lips together, smirks a little, and puts away his knife. For a scary moment, he looks like a child ready to present his work to his parents. 

The moment passes quickly. He apparently remembers that Jimin and Jungkook are in the barn with him and that they witnessed his murder. In a perverse way, Jimin almost feels like he invaded his privacy. 

"Enjoyed the show, blondie?" the hawk grins, showing him his teeth. 

He spreads his arms, letting Jimin stare at him like he"s a magician that just orchestrated and successfully executed the best trick anyone has ever seen. He"s proud of himself. He shamelessly enjoyed it. 

Jimin is disgusted and perhaps a little relieved. If this man has a chance to kill him again, he"ll give him a death that lets Jimin keep at least some of his dignity. 

His head turns to Jungkook to check for his reaction and for a strange, unreal moment he thinks he"s seeing wrong; there"s the detached fascination you usually find in a predator"s eyes swimming in Jungkook"s as he stares through the metal bars. He"s not looking at the hawk like Jimin was. His gaze is trained on the dead girl.

Then he blinks. Jimin blinks too. And the expression is gone. Jimin was mistaken. As he already should have known. His perception has become unreliable. 

When he turns his head again, the hawk is gone and the whole barn smells like death and blood. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Jimin’s eyes feel as dry as the freaking Sahara. 

The sun has started to rise, the door of the barn is still wide open, and Jungkook and Jimin are still holding hands so tightly that Jimin’s fingers are white and numb. 

It"s been hours since the hawk murdered the young girl right in front of their cage, disemboweled her, slit her throat, and let her bleed out. 

Her eyes are still ripped wide open, staring at Jimin mockingly. 

What do you want? Jimin keeps thinking. Why are you looking at me like that?  

Her hair is sprawled out around her head, almost looking like silk. Her skin is pale, and her eyes blood-ridden with weirdly milky irises. Jimin thinks he sees little insects walking around the hay, just waiting for her body to decay. She looks like a ghost, an empty, uninhabited shell. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the lingering smell though. It"s been leaking into the hay and the air for hours now, sinking into every corner of the barn. Jimin should be used to it by now, but whenever he breathes in, his nose fills with the pungent smell and his tongue picks up on the metallic taste. 

She looks so innocent and yet so ruined, so corrupted, Jimin simply can"t tear his eyes away from the sight. 

His stares aren"t surreptitious either. He has no shame in staring at her while Jungkook is clinging to him and he is clinging to Jungkook–while they are clinging to each other –feeling how a few tears run down his face. He can’t control them. They just roll out of his eyes, drop to the ground and disappear in the hay. 

The hours went by in a blur. 

Jungkook has mumbled a few words here and there, but Jimin didn"t really register any of them. 

He only snaps out of his trance when Jungkook stands up abruptly. 

The reason for it falls directly into Jimin’s line of sight; it"s time for breakfast. 

How is it morning already? What day is it? How close is Christmas? Will his parents be concerned if he doesn"t show up for Christmas dinner? Maybe they"ll send him an angry text–like his mother usually does when she disapproves of anything Jimin related. 

We"re disappointed in you, Jimin. 

We"re inconsolable, Jimin. 

We"re shocked, Jimin . 

Will those be the words she will utter at his funeral? 

It"s always “we are” as if his father actually gives a fuck. Jimin knows better; his father doesn"t care about anything that isn"t his work. His all-too-important work, his beloved job, his coworkers, ohhhh they"re all sooooo much more important than his family. Not that his wife cares; she’s the exact same. 

He hates that he has to waste his thoughts on his family–especially in a moment like this. 

“Morning, blondie,” the pig laughs. The nickname apparently stuck, even if the pig wasn"t even present when the hawk humiliated Jimin. They don"t greet Jungkook for some inexplicable reason. 

Like always, the lion and the pig look absolutely relaxed when they walk inside the barn. They"re wearing masks, hiding their identities. Compared to the hawk, their arrogance doesn"t run deep. It"s only surface level. It"s there to hide the ugliness and rottenness of their inner selves they try to hide. They are cowards. 

In fact, it would probably be easy to find out their insecurities. Jimin imagines cracking them open, peeling them apart, flaying them layer for layer, and then reading out all of their humiliating insecurities one by one. 

Jimin is still sitting on the floor, unable to move, lost in his violent fantasy. Is his environment rubbing off on him? 

But Jungkook is standing, approaching the lion and the pig. 

“Will you do this to us as well?” he asks bluntly, pointing at the grotesque corpse. “Will you let us free and hunt us like fucking wildlife?”

The lion and the pig exchange one look. The pig jerks his head, indicating that the lion should reply. 

“Well, we give you weapons as well,” the lion says easily, like sharing this information is absolutely no problem. “You have a weapon and about five minutes to bring distance between yourself and us. You run away and we try to catch you. It"s a fair game. If you escape, then you"re free.”

Jimin isn’t sure if he"s hearing right. 

Jungkook lets out a dry laugh, looking up at the sky for a moment as if to ask, God, are you kidding me? 

But Jimin doesn"t know if he’s religious or not. He might be, he"d be the type for it. 

“You"re insane. You call this a fair chance? After letting us starve and freeze for weeks?” Jungkook roars. He shakes the metal bars that separate him from the two men. 

“I mean, if you don’t want a weapon then you can leave it,” the lion shrugs. He giggles after he says it, nudging the pig’s shoulder like he"s a young boy who just said something funny and wants his friend"s acknowledgement. 

“Why not let us out now? Fight us when it"s still bright outside,” Jungkook provokes, voice becoming louder. 

“Nah,” the lion brushes him off. “Not my call to make when we let you two out. You can marinate in here for a few more days for all I care. It ain"t even Christmas yet, there"s still lots of stuff to do. Gotta buy presents, set up the tree…”

Anger flares up in Jimin. Christmas talk makes him see red. He takes the initiative. “Why did you let out four at once? Why not all of us? Why not kill us all with one blow? Because waiting is getting FUCKING BORING!”

Both of their masked heads jump to him. They remain silent. 

“They"re at the bottom of the hierarchy,” Jungkook seethes. “They don"t make the decisions. We"re talking to the losers of the group, Jimin.”

“Losers?” the pig repeats. He takes a step forward, but the lion stops him by extending his arm, hitting the pig’s chest. 

“They"re trying to rile us up,” he says slowly. “Let"s just do our job.”

Jimin’s heart is beating in his throat. The lion carelessly throws food and two water bottles into their cage. 

“No, stay here,” he says hastily. “Let’s talk. Come on. Let’s–”

“Blondie, you better shut your mouth or I"ll do it for you,” the lion snarls. “Everyone"s just waiting to hunt you down. Your name is getting dropped left and right. ‘Did you see blondie? He was outright asking to be put in this place’. That"s what they say.”

Jimin has lost any rational thoughts. “THEN FUCKING KILL ME!”

He feels something touch his arm. It’s Jungkook. Jungkook, trying to hold him back. It"s always Jungkook trying to calm him down. He"s always there. 

The lion giggles again. He looks delighted at Jimin’s outburst. Pleased. Thrilled, even. “What a show this will be,” he says to the pig. 

“Certainly,” the pig cackles. “Let’s get this bitch into the white room. I am hungry. Should we order pizza?”

“Dude, we had pizza two days ago.”

“Fine, what about burgers?”

“Okay, I"m in the mood for something greasy.”

“Fuck, this one is as light as a feather. It’s a wonder she made it this far after Seokjin struck her down.”

Jimin is panting. He almost yells at Jungkook to grab his arm harder, just so he doesn"t lose his hold on reality. Because, admittedly, he"s floating away right now. 

His brain is threatening to explode yet again as he watches how the pig starts dragging the young girl"s bloody and abused body through the barn towards the other end of it. He"s manhandling her, treating her like an object he can toss around. And he can; there’s no longer any life in there. 

It’s silly, but the thought that we are lighter as corpses crosses Jimin’s mind. He does believe a soul exists, although he might not agree with Descartes that it"s made up of a substance. He rather thinks it’s connected to our being itself, woven into every corner, hinge and crevice. With death, that part leaves the body, disappears into the air–lost energy returning to the cosmos. 

The lion walks in front of the pig, confidently approaching the wall . 

What did they say? Let’s take her to the white room? What was that supposed to mean? 

There"s no room in the barn. Is there? 

The lion takes a key out of his pocket. 

“What is he doing?” Jungkook says next to him–quietly, so only Jimin hears it. 

Jimin doesn"t answer. He’s transfixed on the sight in front of him. Somehow, the lion finds a small hole in the wood and he leans himself against it, turning the key with great strength, and–

And a door swings open. 

Jimin’s throat runs dry. 

The lion walks in first, holding the heavy door open. It was so well-disguised, Jimin had no idea it was there. And he spent hours just staring around, inspecting the space he is stuck in. What in the world is this room? 

He cranes his head to the side to get the best angle. He even makes Jungkook drop his hand from his arm. If Jimin threatens to float away (translation: if he dissociates) he"ll just cling to Jungkook again like he did during the night. He’s Jimin’s last link to humanity–to his emotions needed for survival. 

He’s not made for this. If it wasn’t for Jungkook, who for some inexplicable reason, decided to make Jimin change his mind about life and specifically about surviving, he would have found a way to kill himself. He would have not survived the hawk to begin with. 

But Jungkook–

Jungkook sucks in a harsh breath next to him. 

And Jimin does the same–for a whole different reason though as Jimin will find out later. 

The lion made room for the pig to pass through with the corpse dragging after him. He lets her drop to the ground like she"s a bag of rice that got spoiled and can be disposed of. 

They walk out of the room together, not looking over their shoulders to get a last glimpse of the so-called white room. They don"t care. They"re just here to do a job and eat burgers afterwards. Oh, and do Christmas shopping, how could Jimin forget that little detail. 

But Jimin and Jungkook care. 

There are nothing but skeletons in all kinds of stages of decay in that room, stacked upon each other like they were trying to build a pyramid. There is chaos everywhere; bodies with half-decomposed flesh hanging off of them, clothes hugging nothing but white bones, shoes are lying around, Jimin sees a rat dashing from left to right. 

Jimin gags. “Are those–”

“Like what you see, blondie?” the pig crackles mercilessly, hands propped on his hips. “It"s our special room, designed to store our waste. It’s perfect, don"t you agree?”

“Those are at least thirty– thirty–”

“Ah, it"s probably more than that. Some years we have over ten of you little chickens. The more, the merrier, right?”

Jimin blanches. Like it has been with all the horrible things he’s seen in this cage so far: he keeps looking, internalizing the gruesome imagery. If he survives and has to describe what happened to him and what he saw, he will be able to do so perfectly. He won"t forget a single thing. He just can"t. These pictures will be burned into his head. 

The pig and lion leave, probably with smiles on their faces. Smiles that look more like grimaces and animals baring their teeth angrily. 

Jimin can’t help himself. He does what he always does, and imagines murdering these two in the most gruesome and logic-defying way. He would declare it as justice. He was always a little too much into those revenge plot lines movies liked to portray. 

"Jimin…" Jungkook"s voice is thin. 

Jimin finally pays attention to him again. 

He feels concerned immediately. Is Jungkook having a panic attack? “Jungkook? Jungkook, what"s wrong? Why do you look so–”

“Did you see that one corpse?”

Jimin recoils. “Which one?” There were so many, it’s impossible to know which one Jungkook means. 

Jungkook is playing with the necklace around his neck, twirling the pendant between his fingers. 

Jimin takes a closer look at the necklace. Why is he playing with it? 

"My brother and I both wore the same necklace. It was a present from our parents. A family heirloom. I– I never took it off ever since I got it."

Jimin nods, telling Jungkook he"s listening to him.

"I saw the same necklace in that room just now. On a corpse right at the front. It was just hanging around his neck– and I–" He chokes on his words, shaking his head. 

Jimin sucks in a harsh breath. “He– he was inside the room.”

Jungkook sniffles. “Y-yes.”

Jimin swallows thickly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. 

“Now I know that he is really dead,” Jungkook whispers. “All these months…I only had assumptions, theories and then…”

Jimin stares into the distance. How absolutely cruel fate can be sometimes. Jungkook finally found his brother, but at what cost? 

Will he live long enough to tell anyone and prove what happened to him like he always wanted? 

“At least I know now,” Jungkook says hoarsely. 

“Yeah,” Jimin says, unable to offer him any other form of comfort. "At least you know."

He has no insincere apologies for Jungkook, no consoling words. There"s nothing he could say to make the situation better. He chooses to say nothing instead because he"d rather not tell Jungkook any meaningless words that he could resent later. 

“Can you stay with me for a moment?” Jungkook asks quietly, looking at Jimin out of round, tear-filled eyes. 

“Of course,” Jimin says right away. What a silly question, where else would Jimin go? “Come here.”

He allows Jungkook to stay close to him, their hands intertwined, Jungkook"s head resting on his shoulder. They sit there for a while, Jimin listens to Jungkook’s subdued sobs, the way he sniffles and tries to hold his tears back. He doesn"t feel irritated by someone else"s emotions for once–perhaps because his own have been vanishing and seeing someone else portray the things he wants to feel is relieving somehow. It tells him that emotions still exist. That this place hasn"t magically erased them. 

"You can cry," Jimin says softly. Please cry , he thinks. I want to cry, but I can"t.  

Jungkook tenses. He lifts his head. "I… don"t want to cry." 

"Then…what do you want to do?"

Jimin is awkward at these types of interactions. How do you prove that you are capable of sensitivity? 

"I don"t know, I just don"t want to think anymore," Jungkook admits. His eyes are red and look lighter than usual–illuminated by his grief. His cheeks are soiled by tears, tears that probably taste as salty as the chips Jimin consumes everyday. 

"I get that," he murmurs. "This sucks so hard." 

Jimin knows that his parents emotionally neglected him. 

He knows that now as an adult. As a child and adolescent, however, he didn"t. He wasn"t aware just how severely the emotional immaturity of his own parents affected him and his own emotional development. He read a lot about this specific topic–desperate to learn about himself. 

Ironically, this was a characteristic that is common for those who experience no emotional interest from their parents. Children like him will grow up unable to pinpoint what they"re missing since the absence of emotionality is often invisible and silent. They cannot give a name to the void they are feeling because they have trouble identifying emotions–or perhaps even feeling them. 

Through this, often a numbness develops. 

An inability to understand your own feelings and needs and, more importantly, to communicate those.

And suddenly a thought crosses his mind. A thought he would have never entertained in other circumstances. 

"What are you thinking about?" Jungkook asks quietly. His eyes are studying Jimin, subduing the sorrow, the fatality of their currents and Jimin wishes Jungkook would never blink again; he would break the illusion otherwise.

"Something I shouldn"t be thinking about," Jimin blurts. He despises giving himself away. It feels wrong to reveal his raw emotions like that–no one ever deserves to hear those. 

Is this why he"s never been in love before? Because he can"t commit and he can"t open up? He can"t even allow himself to feel anything in that direction, shame immediately stopping any attempts. He blames his parents for it all. 

"Yeah?" Jungkook"s voice drops, only fueling Jimin"s inappropriate thoughts. 

"We"re all alone now," Jimin says carefully. "We both want to forget."

Realization flashes over Jungkook"s face. His eyes lose their sadness. He doesn"t seem put off. In fact, he leans in. "You surprise me, Jimin."

"Cool," he says, the word barely audible.  

You see, in hindsight, Jimin wonders if he would have done something like this if they weren"t stuck in a cage together like two animals in a zoo. 

The problem is, he comes to the same conclusion every time he overthinks this: yes, yes he would have done the same thing if the circumstances were inherently different. 

He would have kissed Jungkook anyway. Maybe not as quickly, maybe not with this amount of desperation and fervor, but he would have done it. His urges and needs would have gotten the better of him. 

He"s not sure where this sudden change of feeling comes from. He doesn"t have it in him to care though. He"s all alone with Jungkook in a cold cage–why would he care about something painfully normal like anxiety at this point? 

His lips land on Jungkook’s and the world ceases to exist. The cage around them disappears. Jimin has succumbed to this awful connection bred out of desperation they have established. 

At first, Jungkook accepts the kiss, his hands fly to Jimin’s jaw, cradling it softly. He sighs sweetly into Jimin’s mouth, drinks him in greedily, thankful for the distraction it presents. 

But, as if a switch gets turned, he pulls away a millisecond later, concern evident on his face. 

“Jimin– we–”

“Don"t think about it,” Jimin says hastily. “I just don"t want to think about any of this for a moment.”

“Do you really want this?” Jungkook asks. "Because I don"t– I don"t want you to feel like–" 

It’s not that Jimin just wants this–the prospect of using Jungkook’s body for his own pleasure and the other way around–no, he just wants Jungkook. He wants to internalize him–the taste, smell and feeling of him–because he knows he"ll never have something like this outside of this small cage. He wants to use him. 

It"s a last chance at redeeming himself before something horrible will inevitably happen to him. That includes surviving too. Because it"s not glorious, it’s not relieving or beautiful, it’s the opposite: it puts a filter over everything in your life, nothing will be the same anymore–a shadow will be lying over everything. Surviving would come with a price Jimin is not willing or strong enough to pay. 

He pretends that this is his new world, the hay underneath his feet, the man in front of him, the metal and wood around him–he will cease to exist here and before that happens, he shall make the best of it, enjoy the last moments of this semblance of freedom he deludes himself to still possess before even that will be taken away from him. 

What happened to the others yesterday will most likely repeat itself, this time with Jimin and Jungkook as the main characters. But before that, Jimin will suck up any chance at tasting life he can get. 

Didn"t Kafka say "he is terribly afraid of dying because he hasn’t yet lived" ? 

And didn"t Camus say, "he realized now that to be afraid of this death he was staring at with animal terror meant to be afraid of life. Fear of dying justified a limitless attachment to what is alive in man. And all those who had not made the gestures necessary to live their lives, all those who feared and exalted impotence–they were afraid of death because of the sanction it gave to a life in which they had not been involved. They had not lived enough, never having lived at all" ? 

Isn"t that what exactly portrays Jimin"s case? 

When in his life has he truly lived? 

When he was a child, desiring his parents" love and approval? 

When he was a teenager desiring his parents" love and approval? 

When he was an adult desiring everyone"s love and approval? 

“Yes,” Jimin says finally, the truth feeling pivotal on his tongue. “I– I need this.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows are pulled together. A glint of something rises in his eyes. “God, I can"t believe you"re real.”

“Don"t talk, just–”

“Just make you forget, got it,” Jungkook murmurs. His lips lower themselves again. “I can do that.”

Relief floods Jimin’s chest, cleansing out the fear and anger until only desire is left. 

Jungkook’s forehead touches his and Jimin chases his lips, but Jungkook laughs a little, taking control of the situation. His hand travels from Jimin’s jaw to the back of his head, cradling it and tilting it backwards until he deems the angle right. 

“You won"t believe me when I tell you that I’ve wanted to do this ever since you first glared at me, will you?” Jungkook murmurs. 

Jimin shakes his head. “No,” he says airily. “Because this isn’t reality.”

Jungkook’s lips twitch. “Yeah, this is too good to be true.”

Jimin would argue with that statement, but he has no time for that. Jungkook kisses him again, and Jimin’s brain gets wiped clean. For a sweet, totally undeserved moment, all he feels is the touch of Jungkook’s lips on his own, his hands on him, and the growing heat in his belly.

Jungkook turns towards him, making room between Jimin’s legs. Their bodies press against one another, chasing the sort of intimacy that you crave with a desperation that is unparalleled. A whimper leaves Jimin’s mouth, and it seems to fuel Jungkook, giving him the courage to deepen the kiss and explore Jimin’s mouth with his tongue. 

Jimin lets his hands wander over Jungkook’s body, feeling the expanse of muscles on his back, arms, chest. 

Jungkook moans when Jimin pulls on his hair. He stops kissing him, withdraws far enough to let Jimin see the wild smile on his face.

“Let"s–” Jimin starts clumsily. “Let"s just–”

He can’t finish his thought, Jungkook’s tongue in his mouth interrupts it. Somehow, what he wanted to achieve happens shortly after that anyway; they lower themselves to the ground, Jungkook hovering over Jimin. 

Jimin yearns for more tension, for more friction. 

And he gets it. 

Jungkook sinks down on him, grabbing the meat of Jimin’s thigh through his slacks, kneading the flesh. He stares deep into Jimin’s eyes, communicating with him through looks alone. Jimin’s body arches off the ground, trying to get as close as possible to Jungkook.  

Jimin’s breath hitches. The tension in his abdomen becomes unbearable and when their groins rub against each other, Jimin feels himself hardening rapidly. 

“That"s it,” Jungkook says darkly, thrusting shallowly. 

Through his pants, Jimin feels Jungkook getting hard too, straining against the fabric. 

“If I had known you were this desperate…” Jungkook taunts, voice hoarse, lips bruised from the intense kissing. His cheeks are covered in a rosy hue too, a stark contrast to his alabaster skin. And then his eyes–those are unarguably the most beautiful part of him. They captivate Jimin. So much that he doesn"t want to look away. He wants to lose himself in them, wishes they could take him to a different world. 

“I"m going to implode,” Jimin admits. “You need to do something. Please, I"m–”

"Shhh," Jungkook says, putting a finger against Jimin’s lips. "I"ll take care of you."

He gently pulls down Jimin"s turtleneck, revealing his sensitive skin. He kisses Jimin there, sucks on the skin and makes Jimin sigh in pleasure. His hands continue caressing Jimin"s body–they knead his flesh, squeeze his hips and thighs. 

And in an excruciatingly slow motion, his hands wander to Jimin’s dick that is still hidden in his pants, but hardening rapidly, especially with Jungkook smoothing over the thin fabric covering it. 

"I want to see you," Jungkook says darkly. He doesn"t wait for permission, he quickly unbuttons Jimin"s pants and pulls them and his underwear, far enough to get a good hold on his cock. 

His hand is pleasantly warm and soft. Jimin bites into his lip, breath hitching. 

"You"re so beautiful like this," Jungkook murmurs. Jimin isn"t sure how much of his sweet words are actually true, and how much of it is just nonsense uttered in the spur of the moment, like it is to be expected from a situation like this. 

"I want to see you too," Jimin manages to say. All inhibitions have been abandoned; Jimin is acting completely on impulsiveness. Because really, who in his right mind would do something like this in such an inadequate environment? His discomfort level is so high, he could probably trigger a fucking panic attack. But there"s a disconnect in his mind, some weird dissonance that makes him act like a freaking animal, solely relying on ancient instincts and impulses. 

He feels dirty and wrong and insane. Perhaps that"s exactly why he"s doing this. 

Jungkook complies and fulfills Jimin"s request. 

First, he lets Jungkook take his pants off completely. And then he watches impatiently as Jungkook unbuckles his belt and takes out his cock. It looks heavy in his hand, bigger than Jimin"s and close to exploding. It"s wet at the tip; Jimin imagines sucking on it, having the taste of precum fill his mouth and linger on his tongue for days to come. 

Jimin holds his breath when Jungkook takes both of their cocks in his hand, and starts pumping them. It"s not nearly wet enough, since they have no lube whatsoever and both of them are severely malnourished, but Jimin tips into a state of mind where none of this matters, and the absurdity of the situation doesn"t stop him from acting upon his animalistic desires. 

His hands dig into Jungkook’s shoulders, lips parted in subdued pain that quickly morphs into mind-numbing pleasure. 

The friction is amazing, it sends bursts of electricity through Jimin’s body, giving him the impression that he could ascend any second. 

“I wish I could fuck you,” Jungkook says. “You"d take me so well, wouldn"t you?”

“Yes,” Jimin breathes, nodding in submission. 

“You’d suck my cock well too, hm? Would you like me to fuck you throat? You"d like that, I know you would.”

His hand stops moving for a moment, he lifts his hand, and brings it to Jimin’s mouth. “Wet them for me,” he orders. 

Jimin complies. Because he’s nothing but a vessel right now. He"s no longer himself, he’s a person empty of any protest. So he opens his mouth and Jungkook inserts two digits. Jimin closes his mouth, curling his tongue around his fingers, sucking on them. 

Jungkook’s eyes are starting to become brighter–like he’s discovering things about Jimin that please him beyond comprehension. 

“Good boy,” he whispers, the words slipping from his tongue like he didn’t even mean to say them.

When Jungkook pulls his two fingers out again they’re completely wet. He smears the saliva over his palm and reaches back down to grab Jimin’s cock. 

“You could come from a few touches alone,” he states, as if there is no other answer. “Bet I could make you come in less than a minute.”

Jimin writhes on the ground, his entire body tingling and boiling. He cranes his head back, biting his lip to suppress a whine. “Oh my– like that– please…”

“Will you let me fuck your thighs?” Jungkook asks bluntly. 

“Anything you want,” Jimin permits. “I just want to forget it all.”

This was supposed to be about Jungkook, but Jimin doesn"t care–he"ll make this about himself. 

Jungkook’s expression changes slightly. He leans down and pecks Jimin’s cheek. “I can manage that.”

His hand wraps around Jimin’s cock, sliding up and down in an excruciatingly slow manner. He holds eye contact with Jimin, doesn"t even blink, and Jimin is surprised, a tiny bit uncomfortable, and absolutely enthralled all at once. 

Jungkook definitely is the type of person that changes completely when he engages in sexual behavior. The way he drags his eyes over Jimin’s body and how he touches Jimin like he belongs to him–it"s nothing like Jimin ever experienced. It"s new and immediately addictive. 

He never wants this to end. 

He lets Jungkook pull up his sweater to reveal his soft abdomen, he lets him bend his legs, positioning them in a way that allows Jungkook to fit his cock right in between the meat of Jimin’s thighs. 

“That’s perfect,” he purrs. “Hold them together like this, baby.”

It might be the pet name, or the humiliation coursing through his veins, but he feels himself getting harder–if that"s even possible. 

But he is unable to touch himself with the way he’s holding his legs together right now. 

Jungkook takes his own cock into his hand and he slaps Jimin’s thighs, the curve of his head, with the tip, spreading some of his precum around. 

“You"re doing so well,” he praises Jimin. He already caught up on Jimin’s shameful little kink–it contradicts everything Jimin wants people to believe of him. 

His hand wanders along Jimin’s thigh, spreading warmth since his palms are boiling hot against Jimin’s freezing legs. He has goosebumps everywhere, from the cold and from Jungkook. 

Jungkook finally inserts his cock right between Jimin’s thighs, pushing in slowly, just until the tip comes out on the other side. His cock barely touches Jimin’s, giving Jimin a semblance of the desperately needed friction. 

“Hard? Are you gonna come for me soon already? Before I even fucked these sweet thighs?” Jungkook taunts. 

Jimin didn"t expect this harsh behavior from him. He thought Jungkook would be tame, sweet and perhaps a little wild in bed, but he’s nothing like that; he"s cold and controlled, pulls on Jimin’s strings like he has known him for an eternity. He’s exactly what Jimin never knew he would like. 

“Yes,” Jimin breathes out, nodding for good measure. 

Jungkook begins fucking his cock in and out of Jimin"s thighs. The friction feels good and new to Jimin. He can look up at Jungkook and see his pitch-black eyes and forget the world. 

“That"s so good,” Jungkook praises. “You"re making me feel so good.”

Jimin’s legs begin to feel numb. His entire consciousness is sinking into a blissful state of all-consuming numbness, pulling him under water and stealing his breath away. 

His lips part and he lets out a sweet moan, feeling his legs quiver as Jungkook fucks his thighs, wet cockhead dragging along the flesh. Squelching sounds fill the space, accompanied with Jimin"s whimpers, Jungkook"s low grunts and the occasional ecstatic laugh. 

Jimin is shaking when his orgasm approaches even with so little stimulation. He"s shaking when it prematurely hits him like a truck, sending bolts of lightning through him. He’s shaking when Jungkook comes too, shooting his load onto Jimin’s cock and lower stomach. 

And he"s still shaking when Jungkook spreads his legs and takes his own cock into hands one more time, jerking himself once, twice, thrice in order to get the last bits of cum out of him. He catches them with his free hand and doesn"t hesitate to bring them up to Jimin"s lips, breaching his mouth and letting Jimin suck the cum from his fingertips. 

When his fingers emerge from Jimin"s mouth again, dripping wet from saliva, he doesn"t take them away immediately. He spreads his hand, lowering it to Jimin’s throat. His hand wraps around it, holding it loosely as he sinks forward, hovering over Jimin’s spent body. 

He kisses Jimin with tongue and teeth, controlling every part of it. He steals Jimin’s air, explores his mouth. Jimin is whining underneath him, drifting into uncharted territory. 

“Jimin…” Jungkook"s voice is deep and guttural. His lips are directly against Jimin"s ear. “If the cage opens again, let’s go together, hm?”

“Yes, okay,” Jimin agrees way too easily. 

“Because it will open,” Jungkook says intently. “And when it does, I want you to be by my side.”

“Okay,” Jimin murmurs, not questioning it at all. “I want that too.”

When Jimin observes Jungkook as he sits up, the sexual intimacy between them diminishing, a rush of contradicting feelings hits him.

There"s the knowledge that he"ll most likely die in this shit hole with Jungkook and that whatever is between them won"t have a future; therefore, whatever he tells Jungkook–through words or touch–doesn"t matter since it won"t bear fruits anyway. 

He could press himself against him, hoping for Jungkook to hold him tighter in return and whisper comforting things in his ear. He could open his mouth and tell him how much he actually wants to live and how much he wasted his life when he was still in control over it–or thought he was–and that he feels like this is punishment for withering away throughout university like a flower long forgotten. 

Because this can"t be anything else but a punishment–whether it was instilled by God, Fate, or just some sick coincidence. It is his punishment. 

He never believed he was a person with control over anything. But for someone with such stoicism lifeviews, he truly also sucked at dealing with the things that came his way. When did he ever face something head on? 

He can"t think of one example. 

The feelings which are lingering inside of him–those meant for Jungkook–are tentative and foreign, almost alien. They are not like him; Jimin has never been in love before, he doesn"t know if this could even be something similar to it. It"s not love yet anyway, it"s way too early for that and the circumstances are just too unconventional to assume that his feelings are of a healthy nature. They"re simply born from desperation. As if he subconsciously knew that his days were counted and that he had to experience love at least once. 

Leave it to Jimin to give his heart away shortly before death. How utterly inconvenient and foolish. Talk about bad timing. 

But he looks at Jungkook, he looks at him intensely and with an unparalleled sense of self-disgust and he thinks: I like him. He inwardly bemoans that they had to meet here. And yet… if they hadn"t, would someone as splendid and good-natured like Jungkook even look at him if not with contempt and righteous judgment? 

Jimin knows that what he told him is true; Jungkook would despise him if they met in the real world. But they didn"t, they met here, where the world is a small cage with metal bars and the air is thick and promising death, or something even worse–something Jimin cannot even fathom in his darkest dreams. 

In the matter of seconds, their world has shrinked, reality was violently changed–beaten into something incomprehensible. 

Jimin also learned something through imprisonment. He learned many things, in fact. Things no one should have to learn. 

He learned that you become a different person when your days are counted and you know that every breath you take is somewhat of a present, a gift you are ought to worship. A breath becomes infinite and way too short, a heartbeat becomes sacred and yet fleeting. Words you say become meaningful and at the same time pointless–so much that it sends shivers down Jimin"s entire body. He listens now when Jungkook speaks, he wants to understand him. And he wants to be understood. 

He wants to make sure that he will have an impact on his environment–no matter how limited and minimal it will be. 

And that, that is humiliating in such an all-devouring way, Jimin would never say any of it out loud. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

The thing between them continues. Not in a way that makes sense to Jimin though. 

He didn"t consider this when he kissed Jungkook. He thought it would just end with that; a kiss, an orgasm and shared warmth. 

But it doesn"t. The next day, Jungkook holds his hand and his thumb draws circles over his skin. 

He tells Jimin about his deepest wishes. He mentions a cat, a few friends he misses, a life goal he couldn"t achieve yet, a couch he wanted to buy, a book he didn"t finish reading. 

He says so much and Jimin says so little. 

He makes Jimin promise him again. Tell me you won"t give up, he says at night, always in different variations. Tell me you"ll stay strong. Tell me you believe in us. 

Us , he says. Like a kiss made them an interlocked entity. A team. 

Jimin wants to agree with him so badly. 

Yes, he says whenever Jungkook brings up the topic. 

Tell me. 

I"m telling you. 

Promise me. 

I promise you. 

How long will it take until Jimin will have to crush Jungkook"s hopes? 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Jimin knew it would happen at night again. There was no doubt. He just didn"t know when. And perhaps he got a bit too comfortable–if he can even say that under these conditions. He has sunk deep into his little makeshift reality that he shares with Jungkook. 

But it was meant to break apart at some point. Jimin should be relieved that it does. 

Hunting at night, he muses with a morbid fascination, must be more fun and challenging than during the day. It also gives the prisoners the illusion of being able to run away and survive against all odds. 

So when, inevitably, the loud, familiar sounding click goes through the quiet barn, Jimin is up immediately. Sleep has never had a strong grip on him since he came here. Not even Jungkook"s arm that is constantly around him at night changed that. 

“What was that?” Jimin whispers. He isn’t sure why he even says it, deep down he already knows the sound. It’s the sound of the cage opening, of death knocking on the door. 

He knew this day would come, but that it had to happen now still makes him gasp for air. 

His fingers are so cold and stiff, he doesn’t feel it when his nail breaks as he gets up way too quickly, dizziness hitting him. His eyes have adjusted to this never-ending darkness by now–the light bulb hasn"t turned on yet–and he sees the road to freedom right in front of him; the open cage looks tempting, alluring, too good to be true. 

He can’t fall for it. 

“The cage opened,” Jungkook says airily, voice still ridden with sleep. He clears his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. 

“Yeah,” Jimin retorts. He balls his hands to fists. Stay calm. You got this. 

“You know what that means,” Jungkook says fatefully. “We"ve talked about this.”

“Jungkook,” Jimin says hastily. His hand flies to Jungkook"s arm. “You can’t–”

Jungkook shakes him off. “We decided to both go. You said we would do it together.”

Sleep is still clinging to Jimin"s muscles, but his mind is wide awake, plummeting into survival mode. “B-but– what if we just stay here? What if they won"t come?”

“We knew this would happen. We made a fucking pact,” Jungkook stresses, almost hissing the word at Jimin.

“I know, I know, it"s just– I thought I wanted to die, but now I think we might have a chance if we–”

“If we go out there and run away. Yes, then we have a chance. We aren’t like Chungho and the rest. We"re smarter than them. We will just run away as quickly as we can, Jimin.”

“I can"t do it,” Jimin says, shaking his head fervently. “I"m not ready to die. I can’t do it.”

There"s a moment of silence from Jungkook. Jimin knows he said the wrong words. He"s not heroic and brave like Jungkook, he should have known that promising Jungkook to follow him outside when the cage opens was a very bad idea. He should have known. And, yet, at that moment, he chose to say the words anyway, swayed by the emotions of it all. 

A coldness settles over Jungkook"s features. Jimin sees it even in the darkness of the barn. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Jimin parrots dumbly. 

“I"m not going to force you to follow me.”

Jimin takes a second to process the words. By then, Jungkook is already standing, trying to straighten his clothes–like he"s getting ready for something important and wants to look presentable. 

“You"ll go alone?” Jimin sounds pathetic to his own ears. He is still sitting, looking up at Jungkook–looking at someone who made up his mind. Someone stronger than him both mentally and physically. 

“Yes,” Jungkook says easily. “I won"t stay here for a second longer.”

A wave of panic washes over Jimin. He has never felt like this before; so stuck between two bad choices–dying here in a few days or a few hours, or going out there and dying now. He doesn"t want to choose, he hates choosing, he’s as indecisive as it can get, but somehow he feels compelled to give in to his fear. 

"We won"t be able to make it," Jimin says blankly. 

Jungkook halts in his movements, he was already halfway through the door. "Did you just say…?" 

"Yes. We won"t make it out there. Not against all of them," Jimin says, sounding more confident than he feels.

"So you lied to me," Jungkook decides. "You just lied to me when you said you"d follow me outside. How many times did you lie to me?" 

A breath gets stuck in Jimin"s throat. The urge to justify himself rises up. "It"s not like that," he mutters. "I"m just being realistic. If we go out there, we"re at a disadvantage. They are prepared, they want this. This is a game for them. And by going outside, we"ll be the foolish players, the victims of that game. The victims and the losers."

Jungkook lets out a short, incredulous laugh. He looks up, tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. His demeanor changes in an instant. "Do you really think I don"t know that? I"m not stupid, Jimin. And I am able to think rationally as well, even if you think I"m not. But have you perhaps considered that I"m so adamant about going outside because I"d rather die fighting for my life than die in this filthy cage with a bucket full of my own pee in the corner and my humanity buried ten feet under? I want to die as a human, not as an animal in a cage."

Jimin wishes he had any smart words, but all he can think of is that dying while getting hunted by a bunch of psychos seems more dehumanizing than just succumbing to death right here and now. He almost suggests a dual-suicide–wouldn"t it be nice to just kill themselves together? To keep some last semblance of free will? 

Perhaps that"s a little too extreme. And he"s not Juliet and Jungkook isn"t Romeo. This isn"t some Shakespeare tragedy. 

He ends up letting Jungkook go. 

He was right about one thing after all; he"s not a person capable of making people stay in his life. They all abandon him in some way. 

"Goodbye, Jimin," Jungkook says regretfully. "I wish you could have trusted me."

Jimin gulps. I did , he thinks silently. I trust you, I just don"t trust myself. 

He isn"t able to say any goodbyes. They are a useless courtesy in his opinion. 

Jungkook lingers for a prolonged moment. He seems to be waiting for something, maybe for Jimin to change his mind, but Jimin won"t grant him that. He can"t. 

He looks away demonstratively, not wanting to see Jungkook leave. He doesn"t have any romantic feelings for Jungkook, but he feels something–a connection he always craved. And that connection is getting severed by Jimin choosing to stay inside the barn. 

He focuses on the shape of his nails and the red irritated skin around them instead of watching Jungkook. 

He hears a scoff, a last soul shattering testimony of what Jungkook probably thinks of him. 

"You"re a coward," Jungkook says. "You promised me." 

The words send a stab to Jimin’s heart, but he stays strong. He doesn"t flinch, doesn"t react. Because it"s true; he"s a coward. He has known this all his life. 

Jungkook dashes out of the cage–as if leaving Jimin as quickly as possible is what is urging him on and the knowledge that he’s running towards imminent death doesn"t faze him much. 

Jimin feels like a flower on the side of the road; everyone looks at him as they drive by, but no one stays long enough to rip him from the ground and change the way he sees life. Although if that was the case, he wouldn"t survive long anyway, for a flower in a vase is basically already dead. 

He hates himself for a long and satisfying moment. It"s so nice to go back to old habits, revisiting them like old friends. The answer to disappointment is always destructive self hatred. It’s what kept Jimin going. He loathed everything about himself in high school. There was nothing that stood out, nothing that defined him. He was a blank paper; absolutely boring and lackluster. 

He is the same now. 

So he curls himself to a ball and stays like that for a while. Maybe the kidnappers will forget about him. They can have Jungkook, for all Jimin cares. 

He’s nothing to Jimin. Just a stranger Jimin used for emotional comfort. He couldn"t help himself. 

He’s nothing and yet Jimin flinches when a scream reaches his ears. A male scream, familiar and frightening. 

Jimin’s heart stops. His breathing stops. Everything stops as he hears Jungkook scream. 

Screaming for him . 

He’s screaming Jimin’s name as he’s dying. 

Jimin! He screams. Jimin! JIMIN! 

He"s screaming for Jimin to save him. 

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Jimin can"t get the sound of Jungkook"s screams out of his head. It"s playing on repeat inside his mind, distorted and strange-sounding. So unlike him. 

He has been paralyzed for an uncertain amount of time. The actual screams have died down, silence has taken over. It’s so painfully quiet, Jimin wants to reach inside and squeeze his heart and silence it as well. It"s too loud, he doesn"t want to hear it anymore. 

He wants to hear nothing. He wants to vanish quietly and leave not a single trace behind. 

But that is impossible. 

Somehow, as if hypnotized, he gets up from the floor, walks through the open door of the cage, feels how his legs move all on their own, and arrives at the door of the barn. 

It"s dark and beautiful outside. The sky is a perfect shade of purple-black, stars lighting it up, looking like white sprinkles of blood. The night is bright and tempting. He hasn’t been out in so long, his breath hitches involuntarily. 

This is his last chance to change his mind. He already betrayed Jungkook, what more harm will it do if he doesn"t go out there? 

But the screams, the way he said his name with such desperation…

Jimin made up his mind. 

“Jungkook!”

His heart is beating fast–it"s such a humiliating feeling. He doesn’t want to go outside; he doesn’t want to stay inside either. He doesn"t want to be here at all. But Jungkook was brave and went outside, facing their captors all alone. Jimin still feels the shape of his lips against his own. When was the last time Jungkook kissed him? Jimin can"t remember. Time is not tangible anymore and he couldn"t tell you how many days and weeks he spent in that cursed barn, wishing for the end to come closer and stay far away at the same time. 

His foot moves over the threshold and then it"s over for him. 

He made his choice. He made it too late–Jungkook is already out here, probably dead and torn apart by hungry monsters. 

He takes another step. Screams for Jungkook again. “Jungkook! Where are you?!” 

He yells it with exasperation, well aware that the kidnappers must be listening to him. Watching him. Waiting for him. 

And then he"s right in the middle of the large field surrounding the barn, his feet sinking into the soft ground. It has snowed recently, he sees white spots here and there. Most of it has already gone away. He should be shivering from the cold as he feels the harsh wind on his cheeks, imagines them turning red and dry, the skin tightening like his heart is, but he remains stoic, adrenaline granting him some mercy. 

“Are you here somewhere?” he screams as loud as possible. 

He looks around, expecting to see red eyes peeking through the canopy. They"re probably all hiding in the shadows, lurking and waiting, anticipating the next movement, the next change in behavior, with hungry eyes and foaming mouths. Jimin can smell their bloodlust in the crispy air. 

He’s already as good as dead. He isn"t trying to convince himself of anything else. He just wants to find Jungkook and get closure. 

He feels silly for changing his mind immediately after he heard Jungkook screaming his name. What kind of conditioning did he undergo to be affected by his suffering like this? It felt wrong to hear his name on Jungkook"s lips. Wrong and yet right. 

Because Jungkook is the reason he survived for so long. He gave Jimin a reason to not give up prematurely. His presence made Jimin remember that not every person looks down on him and judges him like he judges them. 

He lets out a sob then. He felt hope for a small, devastating moment. In those little, meaningless seconds, scattered throughout their shadowy days, he was convinced they would escape together. 

But now Jungkook is lost somewhere in this abyss of darkness, and Jimin is a blind man trying to find his way back to him. 

His calls receive no answer. It reminds him of whales calling for their family everyday, never giving up. 

He wanders and wanders, feels the strain on his muscles that he hasn"t used properly in forever. His stomach is hollow and hurts, his lungs are burning, his skin feels like it"s peeling itself from his bones. But he keeps on walking, almost enjoying the feeling. It makes him feel alive. It is proof that he isn"t dead yet. 

“Jungkook, where are you? Jungkook, please give me a sign if you are still alive!”

He has no idea why he keeps calling for him. 

And when he finally gets an answer, he is sure it’s a trick of his mind. 

“Jimin! I’m– I"m here!” 

Jimin freezes. He holds his breath. His head whips around. 

“Jimin…”

It"s him. The voice is thin and he’s obviously in pain, but it"s him. It"s him, it"s him, it’s him. 

Jimin finds new energy and starts running towards the sound of the voice. He almost slips two times, the ground is unsteady and his legs feel like jelly, but it doesn"t decrease his pace. He keeps following the whispers of his name, luring him towards his object of desire. 

Jungkook is lying on the ground, his face towards the sky. One hand is holding his stomach, another hand is covering his eyes as if the starlight was too bright and painfully beautiful for him. 

“Jungkook,” Jimin gasps, falling to his knees in an instant. He grabs Jungkook"s arms, eyes scanning his body. Is there blood oozing between his fingers? Is there a hole in his stomach? Is he dying? 

He briefly looks over his shoulder, searching for their captors. Where are they? Did they leave Jungkook here to die alone? Jimin can"t tell. But it"s just the two of them. His vision is blurry, blinded by his relief and fear. 

“What happened?” he whispers, voice so faint, the words seem to vanish as soon as he utters them. But don"t they always? Aren"t they always fleeting and short-lived like that? 

“I tried to run away...” Jungkook lets out a cough. “They– they followed me…”

“Oh, Jungkook,” Jimin cries out. “Are you bleeding? Is that– did you get stabbed? I’m so sorry I didn"t go with you. I"m sorry, so, so sorry–”

“Jimin, can you– please come closer. It’s hard to speak.”

Jimin follows the request immediately and leans forward, not hesitating a single second. He waits for Jungkook to tell him where it hurts, where a knife has entered his body and left a gaping hole, where he needs Jimin to press to save his life. 

Jimin has his ear in front of Jungkook"s lips, listening to his steady breathing. 

He waits. 

He feels his heart pick up the pace for some reason. 

His skin tingles. 

He hears the exact moment Jungkook opens his mouth–the way his lips part and his tongue moves. 

“ Got you ,” he says, pronouncing every syllable slowly and precisely, sounding like he’s grinning from ear to ear. 

Jimin doesn"t understand why he said that. The counter question is already on his lips, ready to be uttered. But Jungkook beats him to it. 

And then there are two hands on Jimin, a knee in his stomach that sends him toppling and blackens his vision. Pain reigns over him for a short moment. 

He is on his back the next time he regains a sense of his body. He’s looking up, his hair feels wet–is it snowing again? The sky looks so white and majestic–and there"s a weird taste in his mouth. Metallic, somehow. But not like blood. More like…disbelief. 

Jungkook is hovering over him, sitting on him almost. His legs are holding Jimin’s center down, caging him in. One hand is wrapped around both of Jimin"s wrists, keeping them trapped over his head as if he is about to lean down and kiss Jimin and wants to be in full control over the act. 

That"s not the case, however. Jimin"s fatally mistaken. Jungkook didn"t lean down to kiss him, he leaned down to press something ice-cold against Jimin’s throat. Something sharp. Something that glistens like a knife. 

“Got you,” Jungkook repeats. “I finally have you where I always wanted.”

“What? Jungkook, this isn"t funny.” Jimin doesn"t understand what he is talking about. Is he messing with Jimin right now? Is he really playing a joke on him when they"re in a life and death situation? If he was simulating just now that means he was simulating all along, no? He wasn’t– he wasn"t dying and screaming Jimin"s name in pain, he was just…playing with Jimin? 

“Oh, it"s actually hilarious,” Jungkook says joyfully. “It’s unbelievably hilarious.”

“Are you kidding me right now? Do you think this is a joke? I thought you were dying!” Jimin shrieks, unable to hide his dismay. “Why are you doing this? This seriously isn’t funny!”

Jungkook is pressing his lips together like he is trying really hard to suppress his laughter. Like he seriously has to put some conscious effort into not bursting out in giggles. 

“Get off me,” Jimin snarls, trying to push Jungkook off him. “We have to get up and call the fucking police somehow. Where did you even get that knife from? Was it just lying around here somewhere? Wait– you didn"t run into any of the kidnappers, right? Did you or did you not?”

Jungkook is laughing silently, shoulders shaking. The knife moves a little, scraping just the surface of Jimin"s skin. 

“Jungkook?” he asks, voice sounding small. 

Something is wrong with his body; he feels like running away. But why would he? This is Jungkook, the boy who shared his food, who offered to take Jimin"s place, who held Jimin at night when they were freezing to death. This is sweet, optimistic Jungkook grinning at him like a maniac. 

“I don"t get it,” Jimin says, voice thin. “I really don"t get it. It"s not funny.”

Jungkook just keeps on grinning, observing Jimin out of wide eyes, laughing inwardly. His teeth are white in the moonlight. White and sharp. They could pierce through Jimin’s skin if they wanted to, right? Humans are the best predator of them all. Look at their sharp teeth, intelligent eyes and innocent demeanor–who would think monsters are hiding beneath that appearance? 

“Jungkook, please, stop fucking with me–”

“Man, you"re actually pathetic,” Jungkook spits, finally talking again. “I thought you"d be ecstatic by now. I’m disappointed. I thought you wouldn"t be this dense.”

He pouts at Jimin. Full lips sticking out. 

Jimin was prepared for everything when he decided to face death and stepped out of the barn because he suddenly had the biggest change of mind ever and really wanted to die under the night sky and not in a filthy pig barn. He will probably end up in the white room anyway, but at least his soul will have left his body by then. 

But this, this was not supposed to be part of the equation. 

In his imagination–in the best case scenario–Jungkook just screamed to let Jimin know he is still alive and this person hovering over him right now is some strange imposter. The real Jungkook is actually running away, getting help, telling the police what happened to them. He’s getting revenge for his brother, for his parents who died in a car crash before ever finding out the truth. 

He shouldn"t be smiling down at Jimin in a menacing way, destroying the perfect illusion Jimin had of him. 

“Jungkook,” Jimin rasps out. The name could be a curse. 

“Keep saying my name like that. I like it,” Jungkook says sweetly. “Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. Ohhh , Jungkook, make me come. Oh, Jungkook, cuddle me, I’m freeeeezing! Oh, Jungkook, don"t go out there you"ll die! Oh, Jungkook, please don"t leave me here alone! Jungkook, please notice me! Pleaaassse!"

His expression changes in a split second. The amusement vanishes and anger settles in instead. 

The knife begins digging into Jimin"s throat. Jimin has no choice but to stay put exactly where he is. 

“It was lovely to hear your pleas,” Jungkook purrs, continuing talking like a demon has decided to possess him. “So, so lovely. I couldn"t get enough of them so I kept prolonging our time together. One more day, I kept saying. Ah, just one more day with him and then he"ll be ready.”

“What are you saying?” Jimin"s voice sounds strange. Is he even talking? Is this really him who’s being confronted with the unimaginable? 

“I’m saying,” Jungkook utters slowly. “That you"re more naive than I thought. Apparently, I did a better job than I expected to be possible with you. You were a little…difficult? You"re not offended if I call you that, right? Difficult. Hard to handle.”

“You’re shitting me right now,” Jimin says with a curt laugh. “This stupid joke or whatever you"re pulling right now has to stop. You"re making me feel uncomfortable.”

Jungkook"s reaction is huge and exaggerated. He groans loudly and rolls his eyes like an insolent teenager. He somehow has the audacity to look fed up with Jimin. “My Goooooood , you just don’t want to see it, huh? Are you really that blind?”

He takes the knife away in a swift motion, leaning back cockily. He is still smiling, assessing Jimin. He stands up quickly, like he never got injured in the first place. And he didn"t. He was just acting. Yeah, he"s completely fine. Jimin sees nothing. No blood. No injury. 

He only sees something absurd and unrealistic. 

“Get up,” Jungkook says coldly, jerking his head. He holds out one hand, waiting for Jimin to grab it. 

Jimin stares at it like it"s a foreign object. “Will we leave now?"

“Just get up and you"ll see,” Jungkook repeats. His tone already sounds impatient. 

Jimin remains frozen, brain completely still. He can’t move. He’s stuck. Immobilized by shock. “I want you to tell me where we are going. I didn’t see a house or anything around here. I want to find–”

Jungkook rolls his eyes again and interrupts Jimin. “Do you want me to make you get up or what?”

Jimin can"t get used to that tone of his. This childish, bored, malicious sounding tone. He chooses to look away from Jungkook, somewhere in the distance of the field where the moon is about to fall into the grass and get swallowed up. That"s how Jimin feels. 

He isn"t ready for the hand that grabs his hair and pulls on it. A yelp of pain leaves his mouth as Jungkook forces him to get up from the ground. 

“Follow my instructions when I give you some,” he bellows. “What is so hard about that? Are you retarded or what?”

Jimin is up on his feet against his will. A lump is growing in his throat. 

Jungkook kicks him in the back again, sending him stumbling forward. 

Like a sheep in a herd, Jimin is forced to walk in front of Jungkook, towards a different part of the field that Jimin hasn’t walked over yet. It feels like he’s walking right into the center of the abyss. 

“Walk,” Jungkook commands. He’s closely behind Jimin, his breath almost hitting Jimin’s nape.

It"s too late to do something for Jimin. He has entered a trance-like state, moving on autopilot. Thoughts shoot through his mind, but his lips are sealed from a bone crushing shock. 

He can"t bear looking at Jungkook, petrified of what he will see in his stardust eyes. 

Jungkook is being forced to do this. That has to be the reason. Their captors probably told him they"ll spare him. Why else would he say and do this to Jimin? Why else would he be ramming his knee into Jimin"s back and sending him to the ground yet again? 

Jimin groans in pain as he falls face first and tries to stop the fall with his arms. He feels like his elbows scrape open on little stones hidden in the grass and snow, but the pain is short-lived and gets replaced by a wall of stone-hard fear when he lifts his head. 

And gazes into the faces of the pig, the lion, the hawk, the woman he saw once, and two other people–one of them being Minsoo. And as it turns out, the pig is actually Hyungseok, just like Jimin predicted at the beginning. 

None of them are masked this time. They are all smiling. Such bright, lovely smiles. You can see they’re doing something they truly love. It"s mirrored in their eyes that are delightfully shining down at Jimin like jewels in an undiscovered cave. 

Is this how his grandparents felt like when they realized their son raped their daughter? When they realized that the person they trusted was hiding their rotten self and deceived them shamelessly? 

He looks at Jungkook and he sees a different person. He sees that uncle. He sees all the people in his life who disappointed him. 

“Surpriseeeee,” Jungkook sing-songs, wiggling his shoulders and turning around himself once. He looks pleased with himself. And giggly. Happy. As if he planned this for weeks. 

And he did. That"s exactly what he did. That was the plan from the very beginning. 

Jimin fell right into his trap.

“You– you are one of them,” he chokes out. The words feel like venom. 

Jungkook"s body language is all wrong–he"s so expressive suddenly, moving his body left and right, facial muscles changing way too fast to keep one distinct expression only. He"s everything and nothing. He’s so loud, flamboyant and eye-catching, and yet, when Jimin’s eyes linger for too long, he feels like that obnoxious demeanor simply fades away like ink in water. 

“You finally caught up! Thank God! For a moment I was thinking I would have to break the news to you again ! But your little bird brain finally caught up!”

"B-but your brother–" 

Jungkook waves a dismissive hand. "That was a lie. This necklace" –he takes it out of his shirt, proudly showing it to Jimin– "I stole it from a couple about two years ago. The woman was delicious, I think we buried her bones somewhere on this field. The husband ended up in the white room as you already saw. Amazing, right? I picked a good story, didn"t I?

“You"re literally insane,” Jimin blurts, trying to crawl away. His slacks feel wet, it"s probably the remnants of the snow melting on him. 

“I’ve heard worse,” Jungkook shrugs. “And, besides, I think you like it when guys are a little insane, don"t you?”

“I don"t know what you"re talking about! I don"t fucking know what you want from me!” Jimin yells. He"s unable to hide the hysteria slowly creeping into his voice. 

Jungkook pouts in disappointment. He looks around his…friends? Accomplices? What should Jimin even call them? and says, feigning apology, “Guys, he"s a little slow. Don’t mind him.”

It"s the pig–Hyungseok–who opens his mouth first. His face is less off-putting than Jimin imagined. He looks…normal. Well, except the crazy look in his eyes. His lips are full and his eyes could look kind. “When can we finally start? I"ve been waiting for this since you picked him, Jungkook.”

“Yes! What"s with all the theatrics? Let him pick a weapon and then we"ll hunt him!” the woman agrees. She"s the oldest of them all–that much is obvious even in the darkness. Wrinkles curl around her mouth and eyes. Her hair is graying. How many times has she done this? “I can"t wait to cook some stew with his meat!”

Jimin feels like he"s a ghost floating above the scene, looking down at everything without being able to intervene. 

He’s just there, a pawn in someone else"s sick game. 

“I want his blonde head on a fucking stick!” the lion chants. 

The whole lot of them look more like barbaric warriors than actual humans. Their faces blur and merge together. It"s overwhelming. 

Jimin’s fingernails are digging so hard into his palm, he can feel the blood trickling down his hands. It"s warm, unlike his hand itself that is probably close to getting frostbite. The contrast of warm and cold keeps him alert. He lowkey wants to pass out, that way he wouldn"t have to bear witness to this display of madness. 

“Enough,” Jungkook cuts in. “I picked him. He’s mine.”

“You already had him for three fucking weeks now!” the hawk screeches. “I want his hand! And his tongue! I want his life !"

Jungkook remains calm. 

Jimin is about to explode. 

Jungkook raises a hand in an attempt to assuage the others. 

Jimin tucks his shoulders in. 

Half of them are looking at Jimin, the other half are looking at Jungkook. Jimin must have been wrong; it"s not the hawk who has enough charisma and authority to lead this murderous group. It"s Jungkook. 

“I said,” he emphasizes, slightly hinting at his irritation. “He"s mine . And I will decide what will happen to him.”

“But you made us wait–”

Minsoo, the guy with the fluffy hair and nice smile that so selflessly helped with the flat tire and then proceeded to let that other guy knock Jimin out, gets cut off right away. 

“You can sleep in the barn tonight if you wanna switch roles so badly,” Jungkook snaps. His eyes slice through Minsoo. 

That makes him shut up. The rest retreat as well, taking a step back from Jimin. They move like an entity, a connected organism with one leader. Like a queen bee and her workers. 

“Well, well, well,” Jungkook snickers, now that his group is finally under control. “I"d love to chat more, Jimin, but my men are kind of impatient. You see, I would just tell them off, but they"re like little puppies; they haven’t learned an ounce of discipline and self-restraint yet. They would just tear you apart if I let them.”

He grins. “But I won"t let them. We"ll stick to the rules. That"s what’s most important about a game, don"t you think so, blondie?”

The name sounds disturbingly affectionate out of his mouth. 

“You really made a good choice with that color,” he goes on. “It gives you this innocent vibe, you know? I think I should try that out next hunting season. Blonde hair and perhaps an even sadder story. Maybe I should say I had a sister instead? People prefer sad stories about women.”

Jimin knows he’s talking about his hair color. And he also knows Jungkook is referring to next year where he will pretend to be a prisoner again to manipulate a victim so much that the victim will wish they were dead once they find out. 

He has so much to say. So much he wants to throw at Jungkook"s head. But the rational part of him stops this impulse. Is there any logic in talking to the insane? 

“Up, up, bunny,” Jungkook orders. “It"s time to hop away and play hide and seek.”

Jimin hasn"t learned his lesson yet and remains still. 

Jungkook seems to lose his nerve immediately. “You really are a stubborn little thing, hm? Provoking me must delight you.”

Ironically, he is right. 

“Guess you really do want to lose a hand,” Jungkook says, voice strained, barely containing his anger. It"s clear that he tried very hard to play his role well in the last weeks. Men like him use any chance they get to inflict pain on others, it"s rare to be as organized as Jungkook. He had to wait so long. 

But Jimin can"t even lie. He knows Jungkook succeeded. He did his job so well, it"s almost Oscar worthy. 

Jimin holds his breath and keeps his gaze on Jungkook, hypnotized by him. 

“But if I cut it off now, you won"t run. You"ll stumble three steps and die,” Jungkook says eventually. He sighs theatrically. Like the idea of a quick death is unbearable to him. “Come on, don"t make this harder than it already is.”

Jimin gathers saliva on his tongue and spits it at Jungkook"s feet. “You"re disgusting. Rot in hell.”

Jungkook"s mouth twitches in amusement. “You"re so cute. So perfect. You"ll run so well for us.” He smiles broadly. It could be charming on another day. Literally a few hours ago Jimin would have thought exactly that. 

“Namjoon, hand me the weapons,” Jungkook demands. 

Namjoon–who used to be Hyungseok–turns around and picks up a large gym bag filled to the brim. So Hyungseok was a fake name? Jimin doesn"t know anything anymore. 

Namjoon/Hyungseok hands the bag over to Jungkook, who drops it at Jimin"s feet unceremoniously. 

“Pick one.”

“What?”

“Pick,” he repeats. “That"s the rule.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I told you to,” Jungkook grits out. “Enough questioning my decisions and orders, Jimin. Either you pick or I"ll pick for you. And you don"t want that. I"ll give you a useless weapon.”

At the end, Jimin opens the bag. His hand disappears inside of it and he doesn"t feel much–his hand is numb from coldness and shock. He just pulls out the first thing he can grab.

Jungkook raises his brows when he sees the weapon Jimin chose. "Hm, good choice." 

Jimin gulps at the sight of the small knife in his hands. It"s barely bigger than a butter knife. The blade is rusty, he doesn"t know if this would be of good use. 

"Now that you picked your weapon, you get a head start; we"ll only come after you in ten minutes. That"s very generous, isn"t it?" 

Jimin scrambles up from the ground. His hand curls around the rusty knife. 

"I should run away and you"ll hunt me?" 

"Yes. You already know how it works."

"All of you?" 

Jungkook tilts his head. "Yes. Why? You don"t like that idea?" 

Jimin swallows. He knew how this would go, but being so directly confronted with it makes it harder to accept. "It just seems unfair."

"Life isn"t fair," Jungkook says. "I think you should know that best." 

Jimin can"t help the defeated laugh that leaves him. Why is Jungkook so right about that? "You"re actually fucking insane."

Jungkook blows out a breath. He is impatient. So much that Jimin finds it fascinating. 

"Run and find out just how insane I am, bunny."

Jungkook is breathing heavily, the excitement rolling off of him in thick waves. He looks like a young boy on Christmas eve. 

Jimin stands in the middle of them all, body buzzing with the desperation to survive. He wishes he would have done track in high school. Maybe he would be a better runner now. He avoided physical workouts all of his life, he never liked the way his muscles burn from exertion, the way his lungs scream for air. 

His blood is rushing at alarming speed through him, heart pumping and pumping and pumping. 

He bends his knees slightly. Digs his feet into the ground. Takes a deep breath. 

Jungkook gives him a wicked smile. It"s almost genuine. 

“Run, Jimin, run.”

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

At 19, Jimin had a girlfriend that he thought he loved very much. But his idea of love had been shallow and meaningless. She had cheated on him, he had been heartbroken. The feeling was one of absolute betrayal. 

Similar to now. 

Albeit this is way worse. 

As he’s running as fast as he possibly can, he thinks of all those red flags he missed that seem so painfully obvious now. 

Jungkook was the guy sleeping in the car, who stepped out to knock Jimin out and get him into their car and into the barn. Into the cage. With himself. 

Jungkook picked him. 

I want him too. There can never be enough. Let"s see what you"re made of. That"s what he said. Now Jimin can put a face to the voice. 

Why did he not put two and two together when he first heard Jungkook speak? There must have been a mental block inside of him, unable to connect Jungkook"s (fake friendly) voice to the guy who knocked him out. Because why the heck would he assume the culprit would be sitting in that fucking cage with him? That would have been absurd. 

But sadly it"s exactly what happened to Jimin. 

It was all a trick. A game. A horrible act of manipulation. 

He inserted himself into the situation to gain control over it and pull the strings from the very core of the whole thing. He was there all along, waiting for the right moment to reveal himself to Jimin. 

He let the others get killed first. Why? Because they weren’t important? They weren’t Jimin ? 

He took Jimin"s place, making it seem like an act of selfless bravery. It wasn’t. It was just another step towards the goal. Even if that goal is unclear to Jimin. What was it? Just Jimin"s trust? Or maybe even more; his love? 

He doesn"t know. 

It"s probably nothing substantial anyway. This whole thing doesn"t operate on what Jimin knows best: logic. 

This works based on the mood of a group of hunters that hunt people . 

He idly remembers all the moments where he imagines seeing something in Jungkook"s eyes. Blaming his poorly developed sense for other people"s emotions, Jimin just decided that the glint in Jungkook"s eyes was just something he couldn"t understand. He wasn"t equipped for it. 

Now he reconsiders.

One incident in particular pops up. The moment where the hawk killed the young girl and especially the moment right after it; Jungkook stared at the corpse and Jimin should have known then. 

Is Jungkook already chasing him? 

He doesn"t dare look over his shoulder, scared to slow down his running. That"s what he absolutely can"t do–he can"t slow down, he has to keep on running. But he doesn"t know where he is. What direction should he run in? 

He"s running away from six people who know this area. How many years have they already been doing this? How many people have they successfully killed? 

Jimin only hears his own strained breaths and his feet on the ground. The night is quiet except for his raging thoughts. 

He"s never felt anything worse before. This beats any feeling of euphoria, humiliation or success. This is desperation through and through. It"s so strong, his entire body, from head to toe, is feeling it. 

He breaks through the trees and stands on stable terrain. 

Wait– 

He found a street. 

A sob leaves his mouth. 

A street means cars. Cars mean people. People mean help. 

He accelerates, thighs burning with his last energy as he runs over the asphalt. 

What is that in the distance? Are those lights? 

Is that– is that a car? 

He comes to a screeching halt, holding a hand over his eyes to protect them from the blinding light of the car that is coming straight at him. 

He just stands there, waiting for the driver to see him. He"s frozen again, some sort of hope blooming at the back of his mind. 

He hears someone slamming the brakes. 

The light is still blinding, but Jimin can look over it and he sees–

"Police," he gasps. 

It"s a fucking police car. With an officer on the driver"s seat. Jimin almost cries in relief. He throws himself towards the car, waving his arms. 

The driver opens the door and Jimin is immediately at him.

"Help me," he cries. "Please help me!" 

The police officer grabs his hands. He looks puzzled. "Did you have an accident? A car crash? Are you alone?" 

"No, no, I–"  he has to catch his breath. His thoughts are toppling over one another. "Help me. You need to help me." 

The officer grabs his shoulders and takes a look at him. "You look awful. What happened to you?"

"Someone"s coming after me," Jimin presses out. His vision is blurry, he feels a tingling in his hands and feet. Oh, he"s going to pass out soon. He can feel it. 

"Who"s coming after you?" the man asks. 

Jimin blinks and does his best to stay on his feet. "They… They are…" 

"Do you need to sit down? It"s winter and you"re only wearing such thin clothes."

"Take me out of here," Jimin begs. He is hyperventilating. "Please– please take me out of this forest–"

"You should sit down. I"ll call for help. You need… An ambulance. I think you"re hypothermic."

"No," Jimin says hastily. "No ambulance. I need– I need to get out."

His energy is gone. The police officer makes him sit down on the ground. His ears are ringing. Please. Please be quick. 

Would they dare to attack the police officer? They don"t hesitate to kill humans so why would they stop at a police officer? 

Jimin’s head is spinning. In the edges of his vision, he notices the police officer speaking into his– his phone? 

He says something. If Jimin’s ears would only pick up the fucking words! 

He tries sitting up. Blood is rushing through him. Where"s his adrenaline, for fuck"s sake? 

The officer says more and Jimin looks at his lips, hoping to pick up something. 

He"s here. 

Jimin’s eyes widen comically. Something the pig says shoots through his head. 

What makes you think the police aren"t aware of this?

All of a sudden, he realizes how weird it is that he miraculously ran into a police car. That the guy was driving through this empty area alone at night. He didn"t even ask Jimin if he was hurt. He wanted to keep him here. 

He–

Is he one of them? 

When the officer isn"t looking, Jimin gathers his last strength and gets up again. 

His gaze shoots towards the forest, not the side he came from, but the other one. He takes a quick breath, checks for the officer one last time, and then he"s gone. 

"Hey!" the guy calls out. "Stay here, where are you going?!" 

Jimin enters the darkness of the forest again. It smells like firs. Like Christmas. His thoughts wander to his parents. Did they come home for Christmas or is his mother stuck in another city again, prioritizing business over family? 

She probably wouldn"t even cancel a meeting for Jimin"s goddamn funeral. Sorry, I can"t come, I have a business meeting at 10.

Jimin can"t trust anyone. That is clear now. The police are in on this. They know. They fucking know. 

So what if–

"Jiminnnnnnn!" 

That was Jungkook. 

"JIMIN, DARLING, WAIT FOR MEEEEEE!" 

Jungkook found him. 

Jimin hears his shrill laughter echoing through the area. The police officer must have alerted him somehow. Jimin was right. 

He feels tears trickle down his face. They feel like drops of pure ice, freezing from getting in contact with the harsh wind. 

Jimin is running faster than ever before, but it still feels like it"s not enough. Like he"s stuck in a fever dream, trying to run away from a monster, but his feet are stuck in the same place and he can"t do anything. 

He wants to live.

He never wanted to live this much before. 

Yes, perhaps Jimin accepted the inevitable outcome of this situation the minute he woke up in the dirty cage. Because–this is irrevocable–he felt it in his very bones and he saw it in the eyes of the other prisoners. No one gets out unscathed of such a life-changing experience. He would have lost either way. 

Those last days/weeks were nothing but a prolonged funeral. He was already dead, it just hadn"t hit him yet. The realization only came later–and later turned out to be now ; the moment where he is running through the woods and the narrow canopy, the wet soil underneath his feet making every step harder, the heavy air that smells like night and death filling his lungs. 

It seems like it all–since the very moment he was born–came down to this. 

Jimin can"t think about anything in particular in these last pitiful moments that are so obviously defined and delineated by his sudden urge to survive. He almost wants to laugh. Because, really, what kind of sick destiny is this? What did he do wrong to end up like this? 

Or rather: what did he not do that led him into this pointless death? 

If he had been more social, more likable, more conscious of the importance of family and friends, more– more–

He should have been a little less like himself. Yeah. It"s as easy as that, isn"t it? It"s almost easier than saying this isn"t any of his fault since it"s not his direct doing–he"s not the one hunting himself right now with the prospect of murder in his sick and deranged thoughts. That"s not him. But he imagines it to be himself; a slightly more unhinged and muscular version, with a talent for manipulation and a charming personality. Someone who isn"t dull and forgettable. 

Why isn"t he the one hunting right now? Why did he have to be on the opposite end of the stick? God, he wished life had worked differently for him. But he was born at the bottom of the hierarchy and even in death–or imminent death–he didn"t manage to climb up the ladder. 

He was born as nothing remarkable and he will end as something remarkable–but in all the wrong ways. 

If his corpse will ever be found and the sick group of individuals who do these abhorrent things, if they will get caught… then what? 

Nobody will see Jimin as the center of this crime. He"s just another victim. Just another variable in the grand scheme of things. A poor, dumb, pitiful, miserable object that fell into the trap and got stuck. 

My plants . The thought shoots through Jimin"s head as Jungkook is seizing him, his eyes lighting up in unadulterated joy and pleasure. 

No one is going to water my plants.  

He gets tackled to the ground, his head hits the soil, the wet grass, the little stones hidden underneath. A muffled sound leaves his mouth. He throws his arms up in an instinctive attempt to defend himself. 

I can"t die here , he thinks repeatedly. What about my plants? 

Yeah, what about his plants? What about the eight plants scattered around his apartment? All of them are succulents since he sucks at taking care of other types of plants. They all die. So, what about them? 

Nobody will give a fuck about them. 

Just like nobody gives a fuck about Jimin dying here. 

Jungkook is sitting on top of him, holding Jimin"s body down. And Jimin is so weak, so fucking helpless. Everything hurts, and he knows it will hurt even more once Jungkook gets started on him. 

"No–" Jimin tries to scream, but his voice dies in the back of his throat. 

Jungkook grins at him, eyes ripped wide open. "I like my boys pretty and breakable–just like you," he purrs before wrapping his hands around Jimin"s neck. "You"re definitely my favorite one yet. Favorite of them all. And it"s been a few years, let me tell you. I"m not saying this just because. None of them were as stubborn as you. You deserve to know this. When I saw you standing there on the road, I just had to have you. I needed you."

With his hands wrapped around Jimin"s throat, stopping the air flow, he presses his lips to Jimin"s, forcing his mouth open. 

"You ran so well. Such fast legs. I"m impressed, really," Jungkook compliments him. "I had lost your trace. I would have not found you if you hadn"t stopped to talk to that cop."

Jimin wants to gag and choke, but his body is as still as a fucking stone, muscles pulled taut. 

"God, I"m so happy right now," Jungkook sighs. "You"re happy too, aren"t you? I"m here to kill you, Jimin! Isn"t that what you always wanted? Kill me, kill me! You kept shouting that at Seokjin! And you probably would have died from blood loss, or maybe an infection if he had taken your hand. I obviously had to stop that. You"re grateful, right? Oh, and when you hugged me!"

Jungkook"s pupils are blown so wide, Jimin is scared out of his mind. What should he do? He is not getting enough air, he"s– he"s–

Jungkook pulls his brows together. "Don"t be mad, okay? I won. I chased you and I won. It"s fair game."

Jimin manages to open his mouth and spit at Jungkook. "Fuck. You." 

Jungkook closes his eyes for a moment, saliva dripping from his face. His hand–subconsciously or not–squeezes harder around Jimin’s throat, making Jimin release embarrassing and humiliating sounds. 

When his lids flutter open again, his eyes are flooded by a determination that sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine. 

"I didn"t know you liked me this much," he says, voice vibrating with rage. "How pleasantly surprising. I think you deserve a kiss."

He leans down, lips ready to touch Jimin"s. And Jimin can"t do anything but let Jungkook proceed, letting him shove his tongue down Jimin’s throat, and holding it there for a torturous moment. 

He laughs about it when he finally pulls off. 

"Now it"s not fun anymore?" he asks Jimin mockingly. "Are you not turned on by me anymore now, Jimin?" 

There"s a faint hint at the insecurity of a teenage boy shining through his voice. As if he experienced a lot of rejection in his younger days and now that he"s in a position of power, has to make sure no one will ever do the same to him again. 

"Come on, don"t be like this," he chuckles. "I"m trying to be nice right now. You basically jumped my bones in the barn, and now you"re acting like you don"t want it?" 

Stars are dancing in Jimin"s vision. He needs to breathe, but Jungkook"s hands around his throat are relentless. Is he even realizing that he"s strangling Jimin to death right now? 

"And then you had the audacity to say you would stay in the barn!" he lets out a maniacal laugh. "You betrayed me! I was shocked! Didn"t expect that from a little lovesick puppy like you! After promising me so many times you"d come with me! Guess what? I would have considered sparing you if you had gone with me. You could have been one of us. But you chose to betray me!" 

Jimin takes that monologue as a no to his earlier question. Jungkook is not noticing that Jimin is about to lose consciousness. He likes hearing himself talk too much to notice anything else. 

"I"m gonna prove how much you want me, you cunt," Jungkook swears. "You can"t fucking defy me. You love me, don"t you?" 

Jimin wishes the hawk was here now. He would have killed Jimin quickly and without all this drama. Just a clean cut through his throat. 

Jungkook"s hands disappear from his neck a second later. So does Jungkook"s legs from Jimin"s hips. He is sitting next to him now. And Jimin doesn"t even have enough time to breathe properly when he"s already confronted with another horror situation; Jungkook starts palming his cock. He"s pressing down on Jimin’s crotch, smoothing over the outline of Jimin"s soft cock.

Jimin chokes on his words. "Stop– stop–" 

"Talk properly, I can"t hear you," Jungkook seethes. He"s smiling wickedly, greedy hands touching Jimin"s body. 

Jimin doesn"t want this. He tries to kick his legs and to get Jungkook"s hands off him. 

"Stop it!" he wails. 

"What?" Jungkook pretends he can"t hear him. "Scream louder, baby. Let me hear how much you want it. Tell me you love me, tell me you love this and I"ll stop." 

Perhaps it was Jimin"s own fault. 

Perhaps, if he wasn"t so inherently dislikable, it could have been prevented. 

Perhaps. Yeah. In theory. In his innermost dreams. In the constant thoughts that plagued his mind from day to day, from hour to hour, minute to minute before this incident. Before his car had a flat tire and he trusted the wrong people. 

On top of being a vile, repulsive thing, he’s also an overthinker. He was simply cursed from birth on; his mind never truly belonged to him. He had to share it with a million voices, all of them just a nuance darker than what he perceives as himself.

God, if he had only been a better person. If he had only prayed more. If he had only listened to his mother. If he had only cut himself out of her life and had lived his own. 

If he had only…

But, of course, as fate wills it, he didn"t. He chose to be ignorant. And that meant falling into traps, becoming the never-changing victim. 

He"s not sure why being faced with this unimaginable situation has made him resort to self-hatred, but he assumes that"s just how he copes. 

He can"t blame Jungkook for choosing him. He applauds him, actually. How insane do you have to be to actually insert yourself into your own game? He played his role so well, Jimin would have never thought that a sexual sadist was hiding under those innocent eyes and words.

But evil things always hide well, don"t they? 

"Now you"re withstanding me, huh? Now that I"m not acting like a complete fool anymore?" Jungkook taunts him, his hands relentlessly working up Jimin"s soft cock. He must have opened Jimin"s pants at some point. 

"Answer me, you slut," he curses. He"s so angry with Jimin, angry because Jimin isn"t complying. He"s not playing Jungkook’s game well. He didn"t even want to run away from him, but he did because he didn"t want to die. 

He"s human. Death isn"t in our nature. We don"t want it for ourselves. We"re selfish like that. Even those who are suicidal often just want to have a different life, an easier one. A life where they wouldn"t think death is the answer. 

Jimin wishes that for himself. Perhaps he will be reincarnated as someone else. 

He miscalculated his death. Jungkook being a sexual sadist was not part of his equation. He thought him to be a sadist that loves to see suffering from up close, observing it with his own two eyes, knowing very well that he orchestrated all of it and is the only one who could relieve them from it. But he didn"t take this into consideration; this obsession with Jimin. 

Will he ever release Jimin? Is that part of his fantasy? 

At the moment, it looks like Jungkook is doing everything to prolong Jimin’s end. He is aiming for the maximum amount of suffering and humiliation. Everything else is too boring. Too unsatisfying. He"s only done with his victims when they end up on his table, their flesh tender and warm, and their bones stored away in the white room, rotting away forever. 

He"s only done with Jimin when Jimin’s eyes are ripped wide open in his last moments, pain and fear as visible as day and night in them, and he has demanded everything from him. 

A sadist can never get enough stimulation. They need more and more. They can"t stop. They get creative and think of newer, more risky ways of torturing their victims. Jungkook truly reached the peak of creativity with playing a victim as well. 

Jimin wonders what Jungkook will do to him once he"s dead. Will he keep Jimin close? Will he admire his corpse and remember how sweet Jimin’s death tasted? 

The thought is unbearable. 

Jimin looks away from Jungkook. His body has gone into shock and the image of himself that he has in his mind–writhing around, fighting Jungkook–is not real. He"s just lying there, taking Jungkook"s abuse. 

His hands are uselessly lying on the ground, fingers as good as numb. He"s shutting down, his mind shielding him. 

Jungkook"s anger is getting worse, his frustration is reaching its limit. Not long anymore, Jimin thinks in relief. He"ll be released from his hell soon. 

But then–

"I should fuck you," Jungkook says coldly. "Maybe you"ll show more of a reaction then."

It awakes something inside of him. 

He wants to scream out in protest. No, Jungkook can"t do that. He can"t seriously consider doing that. His filthy hands on Jimin"s body are already enough, Jimin can"t imagine enduring even more of this abuse. 

"Ah," Jungkook laughs, picking up on Jimin"s protest. "I see you like the idea." 

Jimin’s breath hitches. His lips part. He doesn"t like the idea, and Jungkook knows that. But that"s the fun in all of this; doing things Jimin finds revolting, getting his pleasure from making him suffer. 

Jungkook grins, mouth spread apart like a gaping wound, eyes darker than any nightmare. "Beg for me again. I wanna hear it. I know you can beg so well. Oh, make me come ! Say it one more time for me. Pretty please!" 

He pouts at Jimin. Bats his eyelashes. Ridicules him.

The thing growing inside Jimin"s chest becomes more aggressive. Demanding Jimin to take action. Where is his dignity? His pride? Where did he leave it? It"s not possible that Jungkook already took all of that from him. 

Jungkook lets out a sadistic laugh. "I fed you my cum, I"m already inside of you, Jimin. But I think I"d enjoy this even more with the knowledge that I"ve been inside you twice ."

Something snaps. It outright explodes right in his chest, scorching and destroying any restraint Jimin had. 

And suddenly there"s the knife Jimin took from the bag with weapons in his direct line of sight. He must have dropped it when Jungkook tackled him. It"s lying right there, immediately in reach for him. 

He doesn"t think long. He grabs it. His hand curls around the handle, knuckles whitening. 

And he rams it into Jungkook"s face. 

"Stop talking, you monster!" he screams hysterically. His voice is so sore from the choking, it hurts so much to say those words. He tries to push the knife deeper. He wants to tear Jungkook"s entire face apart. 

Jungkook howls in pain, a high pitched scream leaving him. It"s pathetic. 

Scorching satisfaction shoots through Jimin. He feels his lips morph into an evil smile. Jungkook is not the only one who can inflict pain. 

The knife is stuck right in Jungkook"s left eye, blood running down his face in thick waves of dark red. Jimin coincidentally hit the center of his eye, destroying any hope of Jungkook ever regaining his eyesight. 

Jungkook is still screaming violently, trying to get Jimin off of him. But Jimin is holding onto that knife with all he has, doing his best to not let go. 

At the end, Jungkook overpowers him again. 

His hands fly up, and instead of grabbing the knife, he grabs Jimin"s throat again. 

And squeezes. Hard. 

This time, he obviously has Jimin"s death in mind. Before, he just wanted to play around, wanted to torture him and prolong his pleasure. 

Now, it"s personal. Now, it"s about getting quick revenge on Jimin. 

"You little fucking bitch," Jungkook spits. "You"ll pay for this." 

Jimin laughs. It comes out as rattling breaths, but he"s laughing. He"s laughing so hard. 

Jungkook growls, pushing Jimin down so hard his head collides with the ground and makes a loud thump. "DIE, YOU CUNT! DIE, DIE, DIE!" 

Jimin’s head is spinning. His hand involuntarily slides from the handle of the knife. Capillaries pop in his eyes. His ears are rushing. Last bursts of adrenaline increase his blood flow, desperate for oxygen. 

He"s dying. 

He closes his eyes. 

"OPEN YOUR EYES!" Jungkook commands furiously. Sprinkles of saliva and blood land on Jimin"s face, some of it even fall into his mouth. He can"t taste any of it.

His senses are giving up on him. He remembers how he read that this happens when you"re dying. 

By closing his eyes, he already impaired his vision. His sense of touch is going away too. A blissful numbness is settling over his limbs. The only thing he still feels are Jungkook"s hands around his neck, crushing his windpipe. Even his sense of smell is vanishing. 

He"s drifting away. Finally. 

Only his hearing is still working. 

And before he takes his last breath, he hears footsteps, someone"s shouting and then there"s a loud sound, like an explosion. 

The squeezing stops abruptly. Something lifeless falls on top of him. 

Jimin tries opening his eyes. 

"Fuck, get over here! He"s still alive!" 

It"s the voice of the police officer. He recognized it. The one Jimin thought was on Jungkook"s side. Why is he here? 

He thinks, he"s smiling. He might be dying, but the fact that the police officer is here, probably hovering over him, checking his vitals, means that Jungkook is not choking him anymore. Or is he? Jimin can"t really tell. 

His eyes stay closed. His lips stay parted. 

Dying feels like falling asleep.