Minho didn’t remember how he got here.

He didn’t know why, but he felt so much fury within him. It was boiling up inside him and he wanted to explode. He couldn’t pinpoint a reason—he just wanted to set fire to anything around him.

But then he sort of guessed why.

When he felt Jessica claw into him and throw him to the other side of the pitch black room for the umpteenth time, he realized he wasn’t asleep.

Minho swore when he hit the dirt wall. He hunched over his stomach, coughing out as he felt the slashes of what the Rinapture did to him burn. When was he ever going to catch a break with her?

  “Good morning, sunshine,” she growled, scampering up to him and knocking him to the other side like he was a rag doll, “Welcome to my domain.”

Minho retorted nothing; there was pain all over and to get smart over it wasn’t going to help him anyway. Some fire was in him, telling him to get up, but it still wasn’t enough.

He thought SangJung would at least be humane enough to wake him up to meet a good painful infliction, but he just didn’t learn to quit having expectations of the man that seemed to be of good intention.

Minho felt his back in stabbing pain, déjà vu to their previous encounter, and reached for behind him. Jessica wasted no time and knocked him around again, hitting another side of her so called ‘domain’ with a loud thud and his air escaping his body. His nature called for him to fight back.

He fell to the dirt floor and finally looked around with one eye in night vision. The Rinapture was slowly striding up to him with her jaw open; no doubt his own blood was dripping for her teeth.

  “Jessica,” Minho called, “Let me just . . . make a deal with you.”

She snarled and snatched him up, he claw digging into his right side. Minho shouted out but he doubted anyone could hear him.

  “I’m not low enough to make a deal with you,” she dug in further, “You bow down to me.”

Minho cried out and thrashed violently until he forced his flesh out of her claws, falling hard on to the ground again and trying to crawl his escape. He had enough in him to fight back, but first he needed at least a moment to get himself up. Maybe SangJung would realize most of his abuse was in his sleep and it was enough.

Minho! Bom shouted at him, Will you just let Daesung handle it?!

  “It’s my body!” Minho shouted, blood spewing from his mouth, “I can handle this myself!”

Internally he started twisting, but it wasn’t from the pain. There was anger from defiance inside—and no doubt Daesung was just being eager about being let out. He was shouting and shouting at him in the pit of his body, but Minho refused. This was his body; and even though it’s the worst of times, he’s not lending it.

Minho, if you don’t get your up and do something, she’ll kill you!

  “Thank you for reminding me!” he shouted in aggravation.

She took another swing at Minho and he cursed at her again, holding on to his stomach again and kicked her in the face, as much as it hurt him.

She laughed out of pity of the damage he didn’t bring on her and shrieked, just ready for another strike.

  “I swear to god . . .” Minho mumbled, rolling away from her attack, “I hope this entire thing kills you first.”

The ongoing struggle of enduring and fighting back last forever and Minho was getting nowhere. Each time he tried to change over, she stopped him and the prevented him from doing anything for a good while until she attacked him again.

Minho was feeling more and more pissed off the more he failed and he felt Daesung becoming more anxious than angry, internally begging Minho to let him out.

  “No,” Minho stubbornly answered.

Let him out, Minho! You’re being stupid to the max! Why would you let her do this to you?!

  “I don’t want to rely on someone to save me!” Minho shouted and hit the Rinapture as soon as he had the chance, the force causing her to hit the other side of the area, “Especially a King with almighty-goddamn-power! I don’t need him for me to do this!”

Minho, this isn’t about your damn pride, Bom screamed, It’s about helping you!

  “I’m taking care of her myself,” Minho growled, finally standing, “Get the hell over here, Jessica.”

She snarled again and set off for Minho. His eyes flashed and he readied himself. He felt stupid for letting her do this to him and he wanted to gain his own honor back. He had to turn it around.

  “So slow!” Minho yelled, his hands setting fire, “Why do you insist you’re so highly when you’re so useless?”

Jessica bantered at him in her animalistic language and set sparks to her body, sending large bolts down towards him.

Minho growled as he clasped his hands together to send a wave of fire as thick as his height down towards the bolts and cut them in halves, deteriorating the next ones as they come to the point none could come near Minho.

Jessica sent back an electric wave to keep the fire from hitting her and it was a clash between red and yellow. Jessica slowly kept pressing forward but Minho paid no mind to it before lashing a hand up, forcing the wave of fire to engulf the electricity and burn the animal.

  “Stop!” she screamed, trying to send any of her element back, “You can’t win!”

  “When are you going to learn, Jessica?!” Minho shouted at her, progressing forward, “I don’t care how highly you think of yourself! The more you do this, the more you're asking to destroy your name!”

  “Persistence shows strength!” she sent electricity from above, “I know I have that!”

  “You and Siwon are blind,” Minho gravely spoke, forcing a shield of fire over him to bounce back her power, “You understand so little. You can’t be more than a-hundred. No wonder you're like this.”

Jessica was forced backwards, thrashing her head violently, “It doesn’t matter! I know what I can do!”

  “And you still belittle me,” Minho shouted, a wave of his hand and Jessica was forced to the wall, “Learn, Jessica. Because after this time,” he let her go, the heat from his hands sizzling out as she returned human and out of breath, “I won’t let you live.”

She looked up at him with resentment, wiping her face of sweat before covering her bare chest, “Who do you think you are, Daegrent?”

Minho scoffed, but fell to his own knees as power left him and the pain grew maddening again, “Exactly that.”

She huffed repeatedly and hit her head to the dirt-packed wall, “I hate you so much.”

  “When we get out and I find out you start killing innocent people,” Minho warned in a whisper, his voice faltering as he fell to the side, unable to keep himself up, “I’ll look for you and put you down myself.”

  “What—”

Minho coughed and let himself go. He waited for any sign of human to come in and take him away while the heat of his body put him into an uneasy slumber.

  “He’s not dying. He’s got more strength than that. He’s waken up a few times disoriented, but that’s it,” a gruff, womanly voice said, “As for the Rinapture, she has a fair-sized trauma to the head. She fell asleep and hasn’t woken up since. With the amount of time she’s been out, we might need to call higher nursing authority.”

Minho slowly peeked through his eyes, seeing he was in one of the cleanest infirmaries this place had to offer, watching a nurse speak to Luna.

  “Thanks for being on duty for me,” Luna thanked her.

  “If you get my out of here, you’re welcome,” the woman huffed and left.

Minho’s body twitched, stinging with the sudden movement. But he wasn’t keenly aware of his body ailments rather than he was set on sitting up without giving Luna any warning.

She wasn’t surprised, though, “How are you not in pain?” she turned to him, crossing her arms.

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” he stretched, “How’s Jessica?”

Luna grunted, extending her arm out to where Jessica laid, “You didn’t even touch her and she’s out. They can’t wake her up despite their attempts.”

Minho slowly got up from the bed, anxiously setting eyes on Jessica as he walked up to the foot of her bed. A simple look at her and Minho wasn’t feeling proud of himself.

  “You tried suffocating her, if you don’t remember,” Luna pointed to the burn marks on her neck, “Minho, I get what you have to do,” she looked at him, her face clearly unforgiving, “But Pegasus got word from Bom and I am so disappointed in you.”

Minho sighed, “Look—”

  “No, you look, Minho,” she scolded, “I get people have sudden burst of pride, but you were being plain arrogant and horrid. I don’t care you have a title and wanted to deny it—you use it when you need it. Daesung won’t be here forever—since you’re doing him favors, let him return it! It’s not like he wants to be you! He needs your help and he’s trying to help you get there!”

Minho plead, “Luna—”

  “Don’t whine at me,” she whipped out a stern finger, “You did this ignorantly. Not for the sake of saving yourself but proving something.”

  “You wouldn’t be yelling at me if it were Daesung,” Minho retorted, “Daesung did these kinds of things back to show idiots like Jessica their wrongs and his superiority! Think about that!”

The pit of Minho’s stomach grew upset but he didn’t regret insulting the King.

  “I wouldn’t doubt that,” Luna huffed, walking away from him, “Then I expect you to be better than him, wouldn’t you think?”

Minho groaned and turned to catch up to Luna, “Luna, please—”

  “I told you not to whine at me.”

Minho caught her arm, “Luna, please, you can beat the living and hate me into forever after we get out, okay? Holding a grudge on me now is gonna sidetrack you!”

She moved her arm from his grip and gave him a death glare, scrunching up her lips in her dismay, “Fine. I better be able to pummel you to the floor.”

Minho thanked her with a sigh, sitting back on his own bed and looking at himself, “She did do quite a lot, though.”

Luna sat down next to him, giving his showing skin a once-over before raising her brows, “Like I said, I don’t know how you’re not in pain from all those scratches. Your wings aren’t even damaged.”

Minho grazed his fingertips against all the puffed scratch marks, a slight sting to the touch but nothing teeth-clenching. It was amazing; she could’ve been ripping her claws into him for hours and yet he didn’t even feel like he got injured. What was the difference this time?

  “I don’t know, either,” Minho answered back, “But I doubt this super-healing-whatever-it-is isn’t gonna happen again.”

The two were quiet as they looked through his painless damages and found the deep wounds already turned to scars; Minho didn’t think it would happen so quickly. With the seriousness of what Jonghyun had, Minho expected much more damage to be left.

  “Jonghyun won’t be in the room when you get back,” Luna suddenly said, looking up at him, “He’s coming down here for examination.”

Minho said nothing and nodded.

He was in the room all by himself, laying on the bed and looking up at the ceiling.

He didn’t remember what it felt like being alone since the first week he’d been here. No one coming in. No one talking. Nothing generous walking by. It was just him alone and it was something he didn’t want to miss.

He was restless, for sure. It may have been the middle of the day and he figured he needed more sleep, but his eyes didn’t want to stay shut. They were on high alert.

  “Okay, I get it,” Minho finally spoke up, “You can stop it.”

Minho relaxed a little more as Daesung let go of whatever he was holding on to. He had to know that to keep Minho up was going to piss him off even more.

  “Look, Your Majesty?” Minho sat up, rubbing his face, “I’m sorry that I insulted you and I’m sorry that you're stuck in me. But seriously, if you were in my place, you’d feel the pressure of trying to keep your independence when other people look at you as someone else.”

Minho waited for something from the King, but he felt nothing. He was a little cautious that something like Daesung disappearing from him. It worried him because even though he wasn’t particularly happy, he needed Daesung for the future.

But them Minho’s head grew fuzzy.

  “You will be as grand as your ancestors,” an old man with a beard to his feet pat Daesung’s shoulder, “It is within your blood. We can expect past generations from you greatly.”

Daesung said nothing but nodded to the man, slowly walking away with a line as lips. He grew anxious and tired of being told over and over again who he was and who he had to be. But for the sake of his creatures, he’ll do just what is wanted.

  “Do you not find it odd, my brother?”

Daesung was greeted with these words as he opened the doors to his sister, the Queen’s, chamber.

  “Such as what, Minji?”

She was flying; a clean, flat piece of bark with colors in her hands and a woven paintbrush in the other, painting something above the doors to the balcony.

  “Us two,” she revealed the painting of her and Daesung, “We grow close since before our birth. We linger when we separate. When it is not the creatures on our mind, it will come to be each other. We rely on each others’ actions to move forward.

  “Is it not odd that we do not fret about this?” she looked at him, her face perplexed, “Always in need of each other, yet we beg to be separate. If we become each other, we are not ourselves. We want our separations but we still cannot keep true to our intentions. Why must we be so attached? Why can we not be as everyone else but can only imagine that—” she drifted from the wall and landed softly on the floor a few feet from Daesung, “—I’m standing far from you and you from me? Why is it no matter how far, it is like our bodies are half and half and put together?”

Daesung wanted to be the wise elder as he always had been to guide his sister on, but his words failed to pass his throat.

He didn’t know why they couldn’t be their own—their selves. He didn’t know why they had to be connected and never free. It wasn’t a burden in words of they hated each other, but for the want to be like the other creatures.

  “We are who we are,” Daesung spoke lowly, slowly taking her things to set them down, “We must live in the way of our past. It cannot change. We just accept it, Minji.”

Minho blinked and felt troubled, “You know exactly. . .”

Daesung nodded.

  “You lived without it,” Minho hit his head on the wall, “You wanted it, too.”

Minho got up from the bed, pacing just a bit, “You regret the bad things you’ve done, which reported, wasn’t many. But you had to do these things, right? Because it was expected of you to make the best decision.

  “Man, I heard royalty and all was rough and dramatic,” Minho shagged his long hair, “But I didn’t think it would be this sad.”

Change that.

Minho perked up at the whispery voice and looked around him, seeing nothing in the room with him. He wanted to think that was all in his head—but maybe it was in his head.

  “I don’t know how,” Minho shook his head, “It’s not for me at all.”

He felt a small boost of silent encouragement straighten him up, but he knocked it back down, “I don’t want it.”

He walked over to the window, holding on to the thick bars and looking outside, “I just want to be like everyone else.”

Daesung did nothing further and left Minho to contemplate on what he was going to do. How was he going to avoid taking those wings? How was he supposed to avoid that power?

He wished someone else could take it, but there were no suitors. He was the last left, wasn’t he? That meant it was only him who could make the difference.

Minho sighed, resting his chin on the uneven, rough concreted as he looked at a new place; a different place of the forests surrounding them with gray mountains in the very distant of his line of sight. He was much higher up than his other room.

Minho spotted a black bird in the distance, which was still a rarity since the first time. It was circling around and around and Minho wondered if something died and it was a carnivorous bird.

Minho watched the bird dip down and make turns and curves and come back up, ever so slowly coming closer to him.

He didn’t know why the bird was getting closer—he wanted to think it was just nature going on—but at this point, it was like it spotted him and came straight for him.

Minho moved his head back with the fear it was intentionally going to poke his eyes out and let go of the bars, moving back as the bird roughly landed on to the concrete of the window.

  “. . . The hell, bird,” Minho furrowed his brows, “There’s more windows than this one.”

The black bird squeezed itself in between the thick bars, scampering along the window, cawing at Minho.

It cawed faster and louder until it looked like it was hacking up something in Minho’s direction, and Minho was ready to just smack the thing out the window.

He slowly walked up to it, afraid it would go berserk and fly around the room, and planned to do just as he wanted. When he lifted up his hand, the bird snapped at him and he withdrew.

  “Damn bird,” Minho held his uninjured hand.

It cawed again at him and turned sideways; its dull red eye facing Minho.

Minho furrowed his brows, slowly moving closer, “Black birds don’t have red eyes. . .”

He got close enough to get a decent look at such a minor detail. It was a deep red with black lines around the pupil. Minho was only getting more and more freaked out.

But not until the point he started seeing movement in the eyes—not him and not the pupil. It was faint, see-through movement and Minho squinted for a better look.

What he didn’t expect was everything in front of him disintegrating into ash and replaced with the movement he was seeing before, clear as day.

It’s a creature, Minho grew surprised, The bird is a damn creature.

The thought disintegrated just as fast as reality when Minho saw what the movement was. Minho couldn’t adjust his position to move closer, even though he was close enough, to make sure he was really seeing what he thought he was.

Taemin was pacing back and forth, putting on one of his old hoodies—Minho remembered he got it for him back when they were dating and he still fit into it.

Minho felt so happy yet he wanted to break at the same time. Taemin had to know Minho gave him that hoodie. Taemin had to know he was wearing something that would remind him of Minho. Minho needed to see that to know Taemin was much better than before.

His vision scampered left and Minho didn’t like that, realizing he was literally seeing a bird’s eye view.

  “Do I or don’t I?” Taemin sounded like he repeated it over and over again, adjusting the hoodie by the neckline, “I just . . . what the is wrong with me . . .”

Minho wanted to shout out, but he couldn’t do anything. He was just a black bird on the window.

Taemin huffed and sat on the bed, his legs jittery and his hands fidgeting, “It’s an easy answer, just make one . . .”

Minho couldn’t help staring. It had been so long since he saw Taemin again. It felt so refreshing—it felt like he could breathe again and wanted to just cry. It was like a reunion, but only for him. He ached to scream out to him or to fly and touch him, but he still couldn’t do a single thing.

The blond dye in his hair looked like it washed out long ago, dull dye left on the strands of his hair and the top of his hair was a brown. His own hair was growing lengthy—but he surely pulled it off better than Minho ever could.

He looked tired. The circles under his eyes were deep and his lips looked split and torn and bit to death.

Minho hoped Taemin didn’t pick the biting-his-lip-habit back up. It was hard to kiss him like that.

He looked skinnier than before and that was more than alarming. Taemin was tiny enough—and for his age, he needed weight on him.

Taemin grabbed fistfuls of the hoodie and brought it up to his face, covering himself, “Please just let me make the right answer. Quickly, that’s all I ask,” he rocked himself back and forth, “I want to be ready. I want to.”

The picture was distorting and odd sounds were in Minho’s ears. He screamed for the picture to return and didn’t get what he wanted. He was forced out of what he saw and he fell to the floor, back in his room.

Minho rubbed his eyes hastily and looked at the bird, standing up and walking to it, “You know I need him, don’t you?”

The bird dipped its head.

  “Help me out,” Minho pleaded, “Just do whatever you did then and do it right now so he could see—”

The bird turned around and slipped back out the window, not letting Minho finish before it flew to wherever it was going.

  “Wait!” Minho cried out trying to reach past the bars, “Wait!”

But he couldn’t see the bird anymore.

----Note~----

OHEY.

DIDN'T SEE YOU THERE WITH YOUR PITCH FORKS AND TORCHES.

Don't harm me. xD

I had to stop writing as soon as I got in the groove because of school. Cliche excuse. Oops.

But I hope you liked the chapter well. Reminded that now there's only six chapters left. And hey, a bit from now we get to talk about Jonghyun's little someone and finish that off. I'm excited for that, but warning, it might be a long-booty chapter.

Anyway, I was gonna start writing 29 today, but my appearance staggered me. Swollen eyelid. I had to take care of that all morning and on top of that, go out looking like a big-eyelidded-idiot. Fabulous.

Anyhooooo. I was watching Last of Us DLC and I was just like "OH WAIT WASN'T I WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THAT OR ANOTHER."

Well, no, this isn't, BUT STILL ACTIONY.

Btw, this was one of the FIRST events that ever set off Escape to Redemption to come alive. Idk how I thought of this bird things, but I was so proud of it and been DYING to finally write it. It feels so much better omfg.

So HAVE A NICE MONDAY OFF IF YOU DO.

EAST COAST IS AWFUL OVER HERE.

MORE SNOW STORMS TUESDAY?!

Great.

Just great.

Bye guys!

Love each subscribe, any upvote, comment, view, read, whatever. You all make me happy enough that I just smiled during this entire sentence. <3

~FlaMinhoe