Warmth… that is all you feel is a deep warmth, air gently brushing over you. If feels as if you are floating, dangling gently in midair, swinging above the ground.

“Wake up, Doll,” a husky voice calls, a sudden rush of air pushing at your body before plopping painfully onto the ground, your head bouncing on a rock. Jolting up, you leap to your feet effortlessly, planting your feet in a fighting stance, fists up.

Standing before you are seven men, all wearing disguises. The one standing closest to you is wearing a black facial mask, silver studs protruding from it, threatening to stab anyone who darns come near enough to touch it. They all watch you, their eyebrows raised.

“She can fight?” one asks in the back.

“Obviously not well” another muses. They all have a good laugh. The one standing before you is the only one that doesn’t laugh. He looks like he may be smirking.

“Calm your , Doll. You wouldn’t stand a chance against any of us.” He winks, walking away. You flush deeply, hating how easily embarrassed you are. Always be ready for a fight. You learned that from CAP, but usually, you have your gun with you.

You don’t carry the gun anymore. You thought you wouldn’t be in any danger after you and CAP broke it off.

Well, you were wrong in that assumption on multiple accounts, at least seven of them. They all seemed to be watching you, waiting to see what you are going to do. Are you going to try and run? Will you try and take them on?

You aren’t that stupid. You have no gun, no knife, and no leverage. You are on their turf, their rules. With those chances you will probably just end up dead. Though you know better than to fight when you know you cannot win, they don’t know how smart you really are, and just the thought of you trying to take any of them on just causes amusement for them.

“You coming, Doll?” the man from before yells from behind you. You recognize the voice, J-Hope. You frown a bit, nibbling your lip nervously. A boy in the back chuckles, he looks pretty young. You glare at him.

“What are you looking at kid? How old are you anyway? Ten?” He glowers, glaring angrily. The others can’t help themselves, they burst out laughing. There is even laughter from inside. The boy flushes deeply in embarrassment, growling at you, pushing you roughly towards a door.

“Come on, Doll” he growls, one hand on his gun at his hip. You roll your eyes at his attempt to look scary. There is a difference between looking scary, and actually being it. He TRIES to look scary, J-Hope IS scary.

I bet his aim . You muse eyeing his piece, allowing him to shove you forward into their “humble abode” as one of the others described it as.

The place looked like a train wreck, well from the outside. You would never have guessed that the inside is a jewel. I guess what they say is right, never judge a book by its cover. From the outside, it looks like the walls are ready to cave in, the roof is barely hanging on, as if any weight placed upon it, it will all collapse. The door looks almost off it hinges and the windows, boarded and broken, the foundation broken and collapsed with age, as if the entire structure will give if any amount of pressure were to be placed upon it.

What a clever disguise.

On the inside it is totally different; nice, clean, modern. The ceiling I built high, slanting down steeply to give the outer appearance of the roof collapsing. The walls are plastered, reinforced and sturdy, while painted a nice shade of blue, making the room feel warm and inviting. The windows are clean and un-cracked, and you can see from them as if their image from the outside of boards and brokenness doesn’t exist. The floors beneath my feet are steady and they do not squeak with each step. They are solid and covered with new planks. Not to mention, the furniture. The room was arranged to give an open, free feeling, yet, a homey look.

These boys are no savages. They are sophisticated and they are quite clever.

Well, , I’m screwed. You groan when you realize how meticulous they are. They chose you for a reason, now you just have to figure out that reason.

But how?

Before you are able to get an even better look around, and possibly think of any ways to try and escape, the boy, whom reminds you very much of a small boy on your street, jerks you back by your collar, jerking you back to reality.

“You aren’t a tourist, and we aren’t sight-seeing.” He growls. You roll your eyes.

“Throw her in the basement.” An older boy calls. Actually, he looks like the oldest, possibly the leader? Jerking slightly, you rip away from the boy, glaring blackly at him. He glares back.

“Have J-Hope do it. He can get her to comply.”

“Oh, big word for a cute little boy~” you play coo, pinching his cheeks. He reaches for his gun. There is a chuckle, a hand keeping him from drawing his weapon.

“Calm Jung, she is doing it on purpose.” He smirks. “She is trying to get under your skin.” Looking up, you come face to face with whom you assume is a de-masked J-Hope. He is actually rather attractive. The boy looks up at his Hyung, trying to hide his pout.

“She’s good at it.” He mutters hoping I didn’t hear. J-Hope ruffles the boy’s hair before turning to you, as you slowly are trying to inch away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, raising an eye brow, his stare as cold as ice. You shrug, trying to look innocent. He rolls his eyes, grabbing your arm. You fight, trying to jerk out of his hold. Well, you find out quickly that it is pretty useless. His hold is too strong.

“Let’s go Doll, we made a room…” he pauses to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, not thinking to be gentle, giving a small triumphant smirk when you grunt in pain when his shoulder blade pushes painfully into your stomach. “Just for you.”