Junho feels a tingling sensation make its way down his spine. The air around him seems to turn at least twenty degrees colder. He can feel something unpleasant unfurling itself in his chest.

He adjusts his collar a bit, feeling his throat clench against itself. The weight of his actions pressing against his mind like an unmovable  cinderblock. Yet, he reasoned with himself. What is done is done, and he couldn't find a shred of his being that regretted it.

He stood amongst a crowd of haggard people. They looked as though they had worn out their happiness a long time ago, yet many of them listened to his sharp and dangerously edged words with a distinct attentiveness. A faint light of hope revealing itself amidst a cover of caution and fear.

Junho felt his voice become stronger as he laid word upon word like butter on toast. His voice poured out sentiments like flowing rivers of milk, watering souls hungry for more than just this cold reality. His voice a soothing caress for the crowd, his words a force of unstoppable momentum. 

"This is not what people are destined to be subjected to. We do not see the rest of the world because our vision has been taken away from us. Oppression is what we get. It is not a human's natural right to be subjected to tyranny, dictatorship and slavery."

"You, the people should be able to choose how to live your lives. Yet, here you are, being treated like dogs on a tight leash. What freedom is this? Tell me, what freedom do we have? How will we enjoy happiness when we are being oppressed so forcefully? Where is the liberty? I will tell you. There is none. We are pawns on their chessboard. They will continue to weigh down on us, until we stand up for what we rightfully deserve."

Junho took a moment to catch his breath after his speech, his words leaving a deadly silence. The crowd stared at him in awe, and then one by one, he saw them clapping, nodding, and whispering murmured agreements. There were terrified glances, as though their dissent would magically make itself known.

Junho felt himself smile.

When he walked home that evening, he was confronted by his mother, who did not look particularly overjoyed. Her eyebrows were furrowed in worry. She stanced herself as though ready to argue.

"Junho, I heard you made another one of your freedom speeches." Junho could see his mother's face scrunch up, and he knew he was being stubborn, but some things in this world cannot be taken without conflict.

"Yes, mother, and it seems people are willing to openly dissent against the dictatorship now! If I keep doing this, sooner or later, we will have enough power to fight. And then we will be free." What once was wishful thinking seemed closer to a tangible reality than ever before. Junho could almost taste it upon his tongue, the sweet taste of freedom, one he had only managed to recieve a sip of.

"Please, Junho, just stop this before it escalates. Honey, I know you don't like it, none of us do, but I would rather live life like this than see you get killed for your careless words. The more attention you recieve, the more likely you are to get arrested. Do not throw yourself out like fresh meat to those who know no mercy."

"If I am food for them, I will let them feast."

"He may have my head, but my ideas will never die. Someday we will escape this."

"Junho. Please, just please, let go of this. It's a hopeless cause. You will only kill yourself. It's not worth dying for."

"But mother. It is worth dying for."

He swftly walked into the house, leaving his mother staring after him, her worried stare boring into his back. 

The next day, Junho walked to the plaza, preparing for another speech. 

As the crowd gathered, Junho walked up to his makeshift podium. He looked down at his feet, moving his mouth this way and that. Making sure it was properly stretched for enunciation. 

When he looked up, he caught the eyes of a figure somewhat in the back of the crowd. The people followed Junho's stare and gasped before parting and fleeing like a deer being chased by a predator. 

There stood their dictator. Hwang stood with a face of stone, no emotion evident. His eyes were like hard stones, reflecting only a cruel quality, his gaze was sharpened like that of a carnivorous creature. People cowered as he took a few steps forward, never once breaking eye contact with Junho. His heavy boots made the steps sound ominous, the sound resounded through Junho's skull. Somewhere time seemed to freeze in the moment.

As though it were sealing something final.

He stood at an intimidating stature. Junho did not even try to flee. It would be pointless. He had guards flanking him, and Hwang himself was tall, muscled and adept in martial arts as well as military training. Junho held his stare, as though challenging him.

Hwang cocked his head to the side, motioning for two of his armed guards to grab Junho, pulling his hands behind his back. 

"Junho, what a disappointment. I wanted to spare you."

Junho's hands were immobile, as the metal chain dug into his skin. His wrists were starting to bloom with blue and purple bruises, flowering against his skin like someone had painted over it. He was kneeling in front of the dictator himself. 

"Junho, are you aware of your crimes?"

Junho looked up at Chansung. "What crimes? I am speaking out for our natural given rights. You cannot control the people forever."

Chansung let out a dark chuckle, a sardonic smile etching itself across his austere face. "This is my land. If I deem it a crime, it is a crime."

Junho just scoffed.

"I am curious as to what miraculous transformation you went through when I allowed you out of the country for a limited time."

"If you gave the people a chance to explore the world as I did, they would not stand by and suffer the injustices you bring upon them."

Chansung's face morphed into one of disdain. "Do you not remember the days when we would be companions? You were so obedient back then. You are making me regret giving you special permission to leave the country. The world has tainted you."

Junho stared at Chansung defiantly. "It hasn't tainted me. It has taught me. Regret it as you wish, I stand by my beliefs. Yes, we were companions, but I was also a blind fool then."

Chansung voice bellowed in anger. "Enough. Equality has never worked. Sometimes, people need to be subjected. They need  leadership. I provide that. The concept of equality itself is baseless. It is wishful thinking that every human being is equal. Even more wishful is that equality washes away corruption. There is rampant corruption in those governments of liberty you love so much."

Junho shook his head. "You speak as though you know about every since case. Not like this. Is this what you call leadership? It seems like you just strike fear and take what you want when you want it. Pure selfishness."

Chansung got up from his seat. He circled Junho, eyeing him with an unreadable expression.

"Guards leave. I will deal with him." His voice sounded clipped, as though he were repressing his rage.

Junho heard the doors slam shut with a loud bang, he tried not to shudder as he felt Chansung's rough fingers grasp his chin, tilting his chin upwards to face Chansung. Chansung stared down at him with a mix of disappointment and regret.

"I do not like this outspoken version of you. Perhaps I should rip your tongue out? Then you would have no choice but to be obedient."

Junho's eyes widened, he tried to appear unaffected by the suggestion. But his mind betrayed him as he could feel the early onset stages of fear consume him. 

Chansung's eyes glazed over, salivating at the thought of Junho's torture.

"I could cut your arms off, or your legs. Perhaps both. Then you could not run away. You could not stand against me. But, I've always liked your legs, you know. More than any of the who have taken up my bed. What a shame to cut them off." Chansung's fingers dug into Junho's thigh as he let out a cry of pain. 

"I could break all your bones, make sure you can never move again. I could imprison you here forever, that way whimsical thoughts like liberty would never cross you at all."

"I was sure I could have given you a special position next to me. But why have you betrayed me like this?"

He brushed his hand against Junho's cheek in a gentle manner. The gentle gesture passed just as quickly as it had come. Junho fell to the ground as Chansung suddenly slapped his cheek with great force, the sound reverberating along the walls of the chamber. 

"This life could have been perfect. If you had obeyed me. Give this up now Junho, you cannot win this fight."

Junho quivered as he lay on the ground, but his head shook back and forth, a expression of resolution. His cheek was stinging and he could taste blood on the inside, his skin still buzzing from the abuse, but he refused to budge. And vaguely, Junho recalled when his mother had gone down to the river and had picked out the flimsy flowers growing in the water, saying that all the others had died because they refused to bend with the current.

Chansung grit his teeth in frustration.

"So be it."

Junho gasped. He felt bare, his clothes long gone. He felt violated. Chansung's fingers digging into his entrance, pushing in and out at a rapid pace. He tried to contain his voice, fearing that the guards outside would hear him. This level of degradation was exactly something Chansung would scheme. Junho couldn't keep up with Chansung's twisted thoughts.

All Junho saw was darkness, the blindfold on his eyes preventing him from seeing anything. He was laying on the cold marble floor, Chansung on top of him, ing his digits into him with a forceful touch, yet his voice seemed flippant.

"Do you feel obedient yet? I can violate you as many times as necessary." Junho grunted but refused to submit. 

Chansung's voice was silky next to Junho's ear. "You would have been such a perfect doll. You could have served me faithfully."

Chansung's pace quickened, his fingers becoming more rough with each passing second. Junho could feel liquid pooling down at the space between his legs. He was confident that it was blood. Junho willed the feeling to go away. He didn't want to feel anything.

Junho clenched as he felt something much bigger push its way inside him, invading his body, leaving him writhing and screaming in pain. Chansung into him, leaving no room for waiting. 

He felt those gruff hands grab at his throat. Restricting the air trying to circulate into his lungs, and when Chansung finally let go, he was left sputtering.

"I will keep you by my side."

Junho gasped for breath.

"But I'm afraid you'll have to be obedient."

Junho's eyes widened as his body felt empty once again, his body turning rigid. His mind was racing.

Chansung smiled at him, and with a click was holding a gun pointed at his head, bullet locked in place.

"I will keep you by my side, obedient like you used to be." 

His face a twisted mask of mirth, yet his eyes betrayed a certain sad sentiment. As though he truly had lost something precious.