If you make another noise, I’ll kill you.”

The cool barrel of a gun hovered a mere centimeters away, pointed at the dead center of her forehead.

Yeuna’s tongue felt thick, any noise that had once rumbled in now dying away. Any thoughts of fleeing thrown out the window as a new kind of fear settled at the pit of her stomach. It was the kind of fear that left her frozen, eyes wide as she held her breath.

Would he kill her if she breathed?

Yeuna didn’t want to find out, despite the burning sensation in her chest from the lack of air.

The darkness of the alley hid his features, and the only thing Yeuna’s vision could focus on was the pale fingers on the trigger. Would she die just like that man had? Pleading for mercy she knew she wouldn’t receive? Suddenly, she felt very sober.

She wished that she had just gone back inside.

“Who are you?” the detached voice didn’t quite register in her head; until the barrel had been shoved roughly against her forehead.

Yeuna gasped, air leaving her lungs. Her legs felt like jello, but she wouldn’t dare collapse on the ground now.

“Who are you?” he repeated.

Yeuna attempted to swallow the blockage of terror. “Y-Y-Yeuna,” she stuttered, “K-Kim Y-Yeuna.”

He stepped forward, pressing the barrel harder against her forehead. She was soon tumbling down with the force, arms scraping against cold, damp concrete.

Yeuna looked up to his figure now illuminated by a street lamp, taking shuddering breathes. He was the same man from the club who had stared at her so intensely. His messy blonde hair hung loosely in front of his lifeless, autumn colored eyes. He was handsome, and he terrified her.

He smirked down cruelly at her, cold eyes glinting in amusement. “What’s wrong, kitten?” he purred. Crouching down so that he was eye level with her shivering form, he reached a hand out to play with the strands of her midnight hair. “You look scared. You look like you just walked in on something you weren’t supposed to see.”

Yeuna opened to deny that she had seen everything, but nothing but a squeak sounded.

He raised the gun again to lazily press it against her temple, dark eyes glancing past her. “What should we do with her?”

Footsteps sounded behind her, and then another man popped into her line of sight. He was considerably tanner than the latter, and his voice was deep. “Kill her,” he stated bluntly, with an expression of utter disinterest.

Kill me? I’m a human! How can he talk about killing me so easily? Yeuna’s panicked thoughts began to drown out her logic as despair took over. She was disoriented and didn’t know what the she had just gotten herself into. But one thing was for sure:

She was going to die.

She was going to die in some dirty place behind a strip club and no one was going to save her. By the looks of these men,  she knew that they had their ways of making people disappear. She was going to die in some ty place and no one would ever know. She would be written off as missing and her poor mother would endlessly search for her only daughter, while her body decomposed at the bottom of a cold and murky lake.

There was a soft click as the blonde haired man released the safety; and when he began to apply pressure to the trigger, she closed her eyes.

And then-

“Wait!” the shout was sudden, breaking the dreadful silence. “Don’t kill her.”

The blonde smirked suggestively. “Why? You’d prefer her to be your little plaything, Hobi?”

Hobi? It can’t be…

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