"Feeling psychotic yet, Taozi?"

In the middle of the basment that he's learned to call his home, Tao soaks in his own blood and filth, tied to the chair he'd first been tortured in when he'd arrived. He's just had a record high of three beatings today, and if he has to deal with another one within the rest of the 24-hour period, he honestly thinks he'll be food for the flies; but maybe that's just him, and the insane amount of blood he's losing isn't so bad if it lets him out of this cell of a basement. His head feels almost nonexistent on his shoulders, and the pain striking ever nerve in his body is nearly unbearable, like he's been hit by a semi and left to rot on the side of the road. 

Despite his slowly dwindling will to fight back, Tao shoots Eunhyuk a glare, though he abstains from responding to any of the other man's taunts since he knows from personal experience that doing so will only land him in a deeper pile of . It's not like he can really speak anyway; he's already screamed so much out of pain alone that his throat is far too raw to produce any sounds that isn't incoherent groaning. 

A cackle he's come to think of as disgusting grates against his ears some time later, and he internally cringes at the sound of it. Not wanting to make Eunhyuk any more hostile than he already is, Tao obediently lifts his head to look at the wall behind him. 

"Look at him, Lau! We've got him trained! He can't even stand to look me in the eye anymore. You sure this is Kris' mate and not Yunho's?" he jokes, though Tao doesn't see the humor in it at all. 

"Damn well he's trained. Have to please Teuk in some way, right?" Henry answers with a greasy, satisfied smirk on his lips as he eyes Tao's beaten shell.

"Yeah, but don't go taking all the credit. I tamed him, too." 

"I know, I know. When can we get rid of him, by the way? It's honestly getting a bit boring to play with him now that he's stopped responding. I'm tired of hearing him complain every second of the day." 

If he hadn't have been so agonized, Tao would have actually scoffed out loud. Complain? He can't even bring himself to speak because he's too afraid of what they might do to him if he does; sometimes, it feels like simply breathing too loudly will set them off. He wouldn't dare ask for a crumb from them if it meant a minute less of this abuse. And they wonder why he's not responding? It's a honestly an amazement that they're the "higher ups" of this ridiculous gang with their unbelievable ignorance to his obvious suffering. 

But he does, in fact, shiver at the mention of them thinking of getting rid of him. He's seriously joking when he says that he'd rather leave due to bloodloss, really. There's only one way out of this basement, that much he knows, and he'd prefer to leave on his own two feet than be thrown over Henry's shoulder stuffed into a garbage bag. 

"Sorry to disappoint, but he has to stay, at least until Kris finds him. Teuk promised that as soon as he came, we can do as we like, so until then, we have to keep his heart pumping." 

"Huh," Henry starts, a sneer on his face, "then maybe I shouldn't have drained him so much. I'd like to get more than a bag's worth out of him, when this is all over." 

A bag's worth? A bag's worth of what, exactly? Of his organs to sell to the black market? 

His questions are cut short, though, as something, presumably the handle of whatever tool Eunhyuk decided to use on him, slams into his right temple with enough force to knock him out of his chair. He registers blacking out for a brief few minutes before he's rudely awakened by a fist in his bed of grimey hair.

"You know, it's only good etiquette to respond when someone speaks to you," Henry says as he waltzs closer, the fist in his hair tightening its grip enough to rip out a ball of his red locks. "In case you weren't listening, we're leaving you alone for now for some lunch; it really takes it out of us to play with you. We'll be back whenever we see fit, so wait here like a good boy, okay? I promise to come back to play. Wouldn't want to leave you all lonely in here." 

Jolts of paralyzing pain shoot throughout his body as Eunhyuk uncuffs him from the rickety chair and tosses him onto what has been his bed for the past forever: the cement floor. The two eye him with malicious glares as they make their grand exit out of the basement, and he only escapes from displaying his fear for them when the door slams shut with a booming slam, leaving him with his one and only friend so far: darkness.

He doesn't know how long he sits there -- he gave up on trying to tell time centuries ago -- in the cold silence, so when Jongin comes in with the familiar tray of food and water, he's a bit shocked that he hasn't died by nightfall, the time Jongin usually comes to see him (which he only knows because Jongin always seems to be wearing pajamas every other visit). 

The man crosses the room unsteadily, eyeing the crimson puddle in the center of the room with clear disgust.

"I can't believe they treat you like this. I wasn't treated like this when I got here. I know you couldn't have done anything bad enough for them to beat you up like this, right? You didn't do anything bad, did you? Chosen don't usually get scentenced to the basment, but then again, you're probably not a Chosen. Chosen aren't usually abused," he says when he makes it over to where Tao has chosen to spread himself out of the floor.

As every visit goes, Jongin is still naive, a mere child compared to his age of twenty years, and as every visit goes, Tao doesn't respond much, choosing to eye him instead -- though it's not like he really even has enough of a voice to be understood; he's sure that if he tried to talk, it would come out in frog croaks. He's not quite sure how keen Jongin is on frog language. 

Jongin sets the tray on the flow directly infront of Tao's chest, only a small bowl of steaming porrige and a glass of lukewarm water occupying the space, before plopping himself down right next to his sprawled-out body, resting his chin on a balled fist. 

"Sorry I didn't bring as much food. The others have been getting a bit suspicious of me trying to make food all the time when I don't ever cook, so I saved whatever scraps I could from dinner time today. It's only a little bit of rice porridge and some water I had sitting in my room, but I thought less would be easier on your stomach, since you haven't eaten much of what I've brought down lately. You're not sick are you? Should I sneak the doctor in here to check up on you? He deals with humans, and you're as much a human as me; so maybe he could do something about it. But I don't know if I can trust him with this secret; he's pretty loyal to Leeteuk, and Leeteuk and his crew seem to not like you very much, considering you're stuck down here. What do you think, Tao? Should I trust him?"

And there it is, the usual rambling fit that shows that Jongin is as innocent as the day he was born, not a single clue that cruelty even exists. He's still asking his stupid questions with obvious answers, and it almost makes Tao want to smile -- if it didn't hurt so bad to anyways. Amongst all this chaos, there's at least some type of normalcy to hold on to, to keep him from giving in. 

There's also that name again. Who the hell is this Leetuk guy, and what the hell did he do to piss him off? He's pretty damn positive he's never met the man in his life, so what did he say? What the heck did he do? And what about Kris ties into him being kidnapped and tortured other than the fact that he's supposed "bait"? None of this seems connected at all and makes less sense to him than shoving the alphabet into math equations.

"You know, your face is pretty messed up, but you looked confused. You have soemething on your mind you want to talk about? I can try to help out with your question, but I have to warn you that I'm not all that bright. Dae-hyung tells me he doesn't know how I made it through high school all by myself or why I have as many books as I do. I actually don't know why I have so many books either to be honest; I never read them, but don't tell him that. Anyways, I don't think I'm that dim, so you can ask me whatever you want. I'll try my best to answer."

Tao simply gives him his usual mug shot of an expression, and it seems to work in silencing Jongin for all of about a minute as Tao works on a way to communicate with the boy. Yes, he has thousands of questions, and yes, he'd absolutely love to have them all answered by someone, even if that someone is the ditzy Jongin that can't tell the difference from his left and his right. 

But if he's being reasonable with himself, if Jongin doesn't know simple directions, he probably wouldn't have a single clue about anything Tao says, yet he still wants to take a shot in the dark and try. They say ignorance is bliss, but ignorance is currently playing a part in his crippled mental stability. 

When he can't find a solution to his problem, Tao decides to just go for it; he decides to try to speak, a task he considers high up on the list of "Impossible" alongside getting out of this basement alive and being able to talk to other human beings again. 

The first time he tries, it's more or less like a fish out of water trying to breathe surface air, but the second time, he manages to squeeze out "P-p-paper an-n-nd pen-n" in voice so inaudible that it could be considered a mere whisper of the wind outside his microscopic little window. It seems to take Jongin a few decades to work out what Tao says (he'd been right about the frog language), but eventually he pulls out a baby of a notebook that has a tiny pen stuck onto the cover. Tao thinks it's oddly convenient that Jongin has an entire notebook on hand, but who is he to question it? It's pen and paper, exactly what he needs right now. 

"You can use this. It's my little notebok that I carry around with me. Dae-hyung says I got into a really bad accident a few years ago, and because of it, I lost a good chunk of my memories. He gave me this to write down anything that comes back to me, but I'm letting you use it because your questions are just as important as my memories," Jongin babbles as he tugs it out of his sweatpants' pocket and shuffles it over to Tao. 

It's agonizing to, but Tao manages to reach the notebook without causing himself further injury or tears. It takes a bit more effort to snap the pen off the cover and grip it enough to be stable in his shaking hands though, and he drops both objects at least four times each before he actually gets a good enough grip on the pen and flips to an empty page -- a feat he finds extremely difficult to conquer considering majority, if not all, of the pages have Jongin's messy scribble decorating them. 

Tao makes work of putting his questions in ink, and when he finally finishes, his writing looks worse than a preschooler's script, but it's understandable enough to get his point across. As long as Jongin can hopefully read, he'll get the information he wants. He dutifully scoots the book back over to its owner, making sure to keep it opened to the correct page, and waits with an expectant look as Jongin scans his scrawl. 

"Who is Leeteuk?" Jongin starts, confused. He gives Tao a look of dumbfoundedness, and continues with, "How do you not know who he is? He's the leader of the entire clan! There's no way you didn't know that, right?" 

Tao simply gives a blank stare that communicates his lack of knowledge on this Leeteuk guy out to kill him for no good reason. 

"Huh, I guess you didn't. Maybe it's because you're new? It's a bit strange that you don't know him, especially since that big fight he got into with Kris and his clan. Everyone knows about that, even the Chosen here who came way after it happened. I can't really tell you about it now since it's such a long story, so I'll save it for my next visit when we have more time, okay? Anyways," he continues before Tao can even process his word spurt, "let's move to the next question."

Jongin seems to recoil a bit at his next words; then, he's squinting at the page, appalled. It isn't that hard of a question -- at least Tao doesn't think so -- so he doesn't see the reason behind Jongin's puzzled expression. 

"Why? What do you mean by 'why'? Are you asking why you're here? Or maybe about Eunhyuk and Henry? I don't really understand what you're trying to say," Jongin's face twists, his brow filled with angry wrinkles as he turns his head from the paper to Tao. "but I can say that I don't know why. Of all the years I've been here, they've brought many people in and out of this basement, and I've been there to help each one as much as I can. So far, they've all asked me the same question: why? And I can never tell them, because I don't know. Is there even a why behind all of this? Who knows? Even so, I know there's a reason you're here, Tao, valid or not, and I promise to find it to get you out. And when you're out, we can eat like normal people in the cafe down the street and talk about why." 

It's not the information Tao expects, but it's moving nonetheless. He almost wants to tell the boy no, that he shouldn't go around asking questions to solve Tao's problems, yet he can't bring himself to. He knows it's selfish, but he wants out of this basement and this pain and this loneliness. He wants to be done with this ridiculous strife going on between this Leeteuk person and Kris. He wants to know why he's even involved in the first place. He needs answers now, and Jongin's the only one who can get them. 

Jongin is opening his mouth to respond to another question when voices interrupt him mid-inhale. They're eerily familiar, and it takes a minute for the fact that Eunhyuk and Henry are back to fully sync in. Tao struggles himself into a sitting position to warn Jongin, though the latter seems to have already noticed the disturbance, shoving his book into his pocket as he scatters to the door in a hurry. 

"I'll be back again tomorrow. I hope you'll still be here!" he whispers right before he zooms out of the door in a blur of tan skin. 

I hope you'll still be here. The phrase is unsettling. I hope you'll still be here. Will he be able to last that long with his abusers breathing down his neck, wanting to "play" all the time? A chill runs down Tao's spine. He has to be here tomorrow and the day after and the day the after that; he has to if he wants to leave alive. He needs those answers. He has to be here. 

Not a moment later, the two goons in charge of his abuse waltz into the room with smirks on their faces. They look particularly malevolent this time, and a sinking feeling builds in Tao's gut. They look like they're out for blood, Tao's blood, as they creep into the room with a cocky gait.

He doesn't even try to fight as they pick him up and slam him into the dreaded chair. He doesn't flinch as they proceed to pummel him like no other, like they've gained the strength of a thousand bulls within the time period they disappeared. He doesn't scream out when he gets a nasty knock to the head. He doesn't do anything but survive. He has to get out of this. 

As he lays on the ground however later while fiddling with the pen Jongin left behind, he gazes out of his tiny window and thinks of the day he'll be out of here and sipping on hot mugs of coffee with Jongin down the street. 

This chapter is long overdue T_T and I apologize for that. I hope this makes up for it in some way (I did drop a little hint in the story for you though so maybe that helps?) Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and thank you to those who subscribed aor are still subscribed and deal with my late updates ^^ new chapter out soon!! ^^