Rated for language

Minho jolted awake as the door, not banged, but slammed into the wall as it opened. He groggily stared at the door, trying to place where he was and what happened before he fell asleep. It was very vague, but he knew the guard ‘Onew’ had been in there and told him about Taemin.

  “Rise and shine, beautiful disaster,” the guard shouted, “You’ve been in long enough. Time to get out and play. Let’s go.”

Minho slowly sat up properly, scratching his head and blinking at the guard, “What?”

The guard rolled his eyes, unamused with Minho’s disorientation and roughly tore the blanket off him, gripping his shoulders and forcing him up from the bed. His hands were unnaturally cold and Minho flinched, shoving him off.

  “Don’t be moody,” the guard mocked, tying the chain around Minho’s waist and dragging him along, “SangJung had to kill a Toproai this morning; he’s in a sadistic mood, so you better wake the hell up and do as he says or you’ll end up next to that Toproai in the basement.”

Minho didn’t speak, keeping his mouth sealed from any remarks he would’ve made that could get him into trouble he didn’t need, especially right now. But he did want to say something, to ask a question, and yet he kept quiet.

He wanted more on Taemin. He knew the Onew guy would provide this, and certainly this guard wouldn’t know , but he just wanted more, like a craving for news on Taemin.

The guard was certainly a quiet one, but nonetheless showing off on how stern he was. He walked stiffly, feet planted firmly on the ground with each step that Minho thought the floor was going to collapse if they were that strong.

  “What is this place?” he asked, staring at the guard with more of a curious look rather than with hatred. He was beginning to learn spitting at them wasn’t going to do good.

  “Where you’re supposed to be. With your kind.”

Minho raised a brow, “Helpful,” he sighed, looking out the window, watching others doing their own thing, “How come no one can find this place?”

The guard greeted a few people that walked by coldly, taking a slight look back and Minho before answering, “Only those whom are demons and humans who’ve been exposed to them can see this place. Otherwise, they’re going to be walking through grass instead of our grounds.”

Minho pulled down his brows. How can someone walk through there area and know that they’re actually walking through walls and monsters? It seemed so unrealistic.

Minho was about to ask him about this, but the man sharply cut him off, “Don’t ask. I don’t know how. This prison’s been here forever.”

Without a word, Minho was then shoved into the same room as earlier this morning. SangJung was already inside, sitting in a chair with another chair in front of him, a brown cigar lit in his mouth, leaning back with crossed arms.

  “Oh good,” he raised his brows without amusement, “You woke up.”

The door slammed behind him and Minho took charge of himself, sitting in the chair in front of SangJung before the old man ed at him to.

  “So,” the elder disregarded his independent action, “This can be easy or difficult, you can take a pick. Just answer questions and you’ll be out of here and finally see daylight inside our borders.”

Minho crossed his arms, silent.

  “Your parents.”

  “That’s not a question,” Minho replied curtly.

SangJung said nothing, but giving him an intense glare as he waited.

  “You could always say please, you know. It’s one of the first words you learn.”

He swore he saw SangJung’s eye twitch, before he took out his cigar, “Parents.”

  “Dunno. Never knew them.”

  “Interesting. Where were you born?”

Minho lied; SangJung was obviously going to burn down and bury the place around the lake if he told the truth, “I never knew.”

He eyed his suspiciously, but moved on, “Know any other demon?”

  “I only know me, does that count?”

SangJung shoved the cigar to Minho’s face, almost touching his skin. Minho could feel the pulse of the heat and smell the ash in flames, “Don’t play around. I might beat your .”

The man got up from the chair, returning to bulky cigar to his mouth, idly walking around. Minho sat there, feeling mighty confident for absolutely no reason. Maybe basking in the glory that he wasn’t beat to yet.

  “I’ve got to say, not every Daegrent looks the same,” he made note, tapping at his cigar, “Trinity has white marks, not black. Maybe it’s because of her skin color, I’ll never know. But it’s interesting. White marks and black wings. You have black marks and white wings. Curious. So very curious, boy. . .”

Minho’s eyes kept still at the empty chair in front of him, waiting for him to go on. He had no comment on his words. Just because not every creature was the same didn’t mean anything to him. Variations are found everyone, whether it was naturally born with or changed, and always proud to the end of what they are. No matter what pain came through.

Although, Minho was a little on the edge with such a statement.

  “Your form is weak,” SangJung commented, probably trying to start something with Minho. The guard did say he was feeling sadistic.

  “I don’t care,” Minho shrugged, picking at his ripped pants, “Proves I’m not as dangerous as you make me out to be, am I right?”

The elder kept quiet, not moving, staying in one spot without a word to cut back at him.

Minho’s lips curved upward to a smirk, finding just a bit more glory that he stumped the man who was supposed to be so intelligent and scary as his outer shell made him to be.

  “Taemin.”

Minho perked up, looking to where the man was in the room. He was staring at his cigar with disinterest, moving his attention to the intrigued Minho with a snide smirk, “That got you goin’.”

  “What about him?” Minho urgently asked, stiffening in his seat.

The man shrugged, taunting Minho without words. Minho was slowly infuriating as he was being left in the dark. He had to know more; he needed to know more. He needed (even though he’s had all he needed so far) more of a reason to bust out of here. To run away from this place and to never be found again.

And here, this man was just abusing Taemin’s name for the sake of information.

  “What did you do to him?” it sounded more like a statement, assuming Minho actually did something.

  “Nothing to harm him as you would think,” Minho shot back, standing up and causing the chair to fall over, “Never could I hurt him; so just tell me more about him, damn it!”

  “Surely you did something. Maybe you don’t regret it, but he may. May not have hurt him physically but emotionally. So what did you do?” SangJung’s smirk grew, “Was it only that day a week ago? Where lies turned to the truth and he saw what you really were? That you were a killer?”

Minho roared, stepping forward, “I didn’t ing kill anybody! If someone murdered, dear ing god, it was you people who shot the arrows!”

  “And if we didn’t shoot? Surely you as a beast was going to tear him to shreds, weren’t you?”

Minho growled, the irritation from the insults growing larger than his own body, infuriating his blood.

He wasn’t a killer. He was never going to kill Joon. Severely injure him, yes, but he could never go as far as to kill a thing, especially in front of Taemin!

Seunghyun taught him better; so much ing better! Minho lived as a human being, not some bloodthirsty monster that enjoyed death—like Joon. He was no where close to being like Joon.

Seunghyun made him into a man! Not what SangJung is saying! If only Seunghyun would notice Minho went missing from Namwon, that Taemin can’t even step into their home, Seunghyun would surely save his !

  “You would’ve done worse than just kill the Intellude,” SangJung continued, giving greater interest to his cigar now, casually leaning on the wall, “And I think you know it, too. You thought about it.”

  “You ing liar!”

Minho couldn’t suppress himself. , all Seunghyun’s efforts were going to waste. He couldn’t even contain himself anymore.

He could feel the black marks surfacing and crawling all over his body, his vision shaking as the white wall with blue undertone turned completely white, the creases between each tile gray.

His heart was in his ears, the electric pulsed in his veins, his wing marks burned as the wings grew out from his back, his fists clenched, feeling the heat waves exit his body to the atmosphere.

  “Am I now?”

  “ing lies!”

Minho charged at SangJung, his hands full of white fire, ready to blast the man into oblivion to never hear his voice again.

The door slammed open, but Minho didn’t looked, he swung at the elder instantly, the rage that built up lowering as he made his move.

But even for an old man, he was great at dodges.

  “Your fighting skills,” SangJung mused, “Are awful. Should brush up on them instead of me killing you.”

Minho growled and aimed at him again, miserably failing as he felt a stab in his right shoulder, causing him to cry out fury and kick the person behind him away from his body, removing the weapon from his shoulder, staring at it the best as he could with his shaking vision.

Minho crushed it, completely and overly pissed with it. No one could inject him with drugs. No one could put a syringe into him.

  “Get another one!” SangJung ordered, and Minho felt another stab on to his left shoulder.

  “Get the off!” Minho hissed, punching the other guard in the gut with his dying flaming fist as whatever was injected had quickly spread and weakened him, removing the next syringe and throwing it at the wall by SangJung’s head, “You . . . ing —”

Minho’s face instantly met with the cold floor, causing his upper body to hiss at the temperature difference, feeling like a burn to Minho.

He screamed out as he could finally feel the punch on his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he could even feel a ring mark on his left cheek.

He was hearing water in his ears, unable to make out any other sound, consciousness slipping from him as he started blacking out. The gray ceiling was dotting in black, shaking, slowly dimming down as if the lights were fading.

  “Your fighting skills are awful, boy.”

----Note~----

HI. c:

I'm actually feeling really pumped about this fic again because I'm sort of making my way out of writers block! Wrote all week. :D

So I'm just feelin' all...

...Dorkishly happy.

But yes, because Minho's been irritated so far, he's mostly going to be really sensitive to negativity and being played with. So obviously he's gonna flare up.

Anyone like SangJung? I'd think people'd be interested in his history, as well as why he treats Trinity (the woman in chapter five), so I do have a BTS to ETR, and that may be posted up soon enough. I'll make sure to link it when I do. c:

And here we go, with Minho being drugged up and knocked out. Imagine the things that could happen. xD

Next chapter is an introduction to a new character (She's female ;D ) who will play a role as large as Onew's. Anyone wanna take any guesses?

(BTW, the header IS SangJung. SangJung is his real name, too. Many would know him from City Hunter. I wanted a better picture, but I couldn't find any asdfghjgfdsfghjgfds.)

But, here you go. I'm gonna go write more of this now.

Thank you to any views, comments, and subs. <3

~FlaMinhoe