With his head hung in disbelief, Kyungsoo dragged his feet along the twisting corridors of the Hyde. His body felt numb, his chest heavy. Every little thing that had happened that evening – it was all a dream. It had to be. Illegal auctions in the Hyde? It was utterly impossible.

Jongin walked several paces in front of him, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants. He hadn’t spoken a word to Kyungsoo since the auction and, with only a sharp shove in the direction of the exit from Jongin signaling him to follow, Kyungsoo was unsure of what his fate held.

The usually brightly lit hallways of the hotel were now enveloped in an eerie darkness and provided little comfort for Kyungsoo. Jongin’s dissonant footfalls seemed to bounce off the bare walls and, with every passing minute, Kyungsoo grew more and more unnerved.

Picking up his pace, Kyungsoo scrambled clumsily to Jongin’s side, the other paying him no mind.

“Where are we going?” he asked timidly, his voice barely a whisper. Some part of him knew that Jongin would not respond let alone acknowledge his presence, but Kyungsoo still hoped. Instead of his previous demenour, Jongin shot him a cold sideways glance, his eyes dark, before shifting his gaze to the darkened hallway in front of them.

Coming to a halt in front of the elevator, Kyungsoo’s heartbeat began to quicken, his eyes darting from where Jongin stood, expressionless, to the gleaming elevator doors. This would be the perfect place for Jongin to kill him; so isolated – nobody would be there to see. There would be no escape.

But why would he have paid such a high price only to kill his prize? Kyungsoo couldn’t understand.

“Um,” he stammered, watching Jongin carefully.  The breath caught in his throat when the elevators doors slid open slowly and Kyungsoo took a small step backwards.

“Get in,” said Jongin, his voice gravelly.

Kyungsoo shook his head. “I-I’d like to go home, please.”

At this, Jongin’s lips tugged upwards over his teeth into a cold smile. Slowly turning to face Kyungsoo, Jongin laughed, a laugh that carried no trace of mirth.

“And I said,” he began dangerously. “Get in.”

Kyungsoo’s shoulders slumped in defeat and wordlessly, he followed Jongin’s orders, carefully stepping around the other and into the elevator. His blood ran cold when the gleaming elevator doors slid shut and instinctively, Kyungsoo pressed himself against the wall, determined to keep himself as far away from Jongin as possible.

Sensing the other’s fear, Jongin turned, his lips tugging upwards into a cold smirk as he watched Kyungsoo cower. This was exactly what he wanted – Kyungsoo feared for his life. Fear would make it easy for Jongin to manipulate him; a marionette, only for him to control; a simple fly caught in a web of trepidation.

For Jongin, this made things so much easier.

Dragging Kyungsoo along the uppermost floor’s hallway by the scruff of his shirt, Jongin smiled in satisfaction as he heard the frightened whimpers of the other, straining to twist free. He could see the tiny beads of sweat that glistened on Kyungsoo’s forehead, and Jongin was more than certain that if he listened hard enough, he would be able to hear the discordant beating of Kyungsoo’s heart.

With a roll of his eyes, Jongin shoved Kyungsoo forward, the apprentice chef staggering forward a few paces before regaining his footing.

“Walk,” said Jongin, his voice cacophonous in the otherwise silent hallway. With his eyes wide, Kyungsoo wheeled around to face him, his bottom lip quivering.

“B-but,” he blubbered. “This is the top floor – the penthouse! I’m not allowed up here!”

“Walk,” Jongin repeated simply, his hand dipping into the pocket of his overcoat, returning moments later with a revolver, his fingers wrapped lazily around the grip of the weapon. Slowly, he dropped the barrel of the gun, placing the cold metal against Kyungsoo’s thigh. “Or I will make you will regret not doing as you’re told.”

Almost immediately, Kyungsoo started down the hallway at a quick pace, his shoulders hunched and his gaze fixed on the rich carpeted floor. Tucking the revolver safely back into the pocket of his overcoat, Jongin shook his head. Kyungsoo was already giving him the onset of a migraine. Maybe it would be best to not keep him alive for very much longer.

Yes, Jongin thought. That would do. Kyungsoo would be kept alive long enough to serve his purpose and then … The corners of Jongin’s lips tugged upward at the thought.

And then he would deal with Kyungsoo himself.

Coming to a halt nervously in front of the large, double doors of the penthouse, Kyungsoo froze, waiting for Jongin to catch up. He had hoped that this is where he was expected to walk – making Jongin angry would end badly for him.

Dropping his gaze, Kyungsoo focused his attention on his feet, stubbing the plush carpet with the toe of his shoe. He didn’t want to look at Jongin – every single thing about him was cold, heartless. Inhaling sharply, he waited, his body numb, for the other to reach him.

“It’s unlocked,” Jongin said simply as he closed the distance between the two. “Go in.”

“U-unlocked?” Kyungsoo stuttered in amazement. Reaching out for the smooth, gilded door handle, Kyungsoo’s eyes widened as it clicked softly, the door swinging open. “Aren’t you worried that somebody can sneak in and - ” he paused, unsure of why he was concerned. “- Hurt you?” he finished meekly.

Jongin snorted, side stepping around Kyungsoo and entering the penthouse, the apprentice chef trailing several steps behind him.

“Hurt me?” he scoffed, a fleeting gleam of annoyance in his dark eyes. “Who would be stupid enough to try and hurt me?” 

Kyungsoo bit his lip, distracting himself with the beautifully furnished interior; it was more beautiful than he could ever imagine and Kyungsoo felt as though by standing just inside the doorway in his offcoloured kitchen whites, he was detracting the sheer majesty of the penthouse.

 Shifting from one foot to the other nervously, Kyungsoo slowly met Jongin’s gaze.

“Would it be okay if I go home now?” he asked softly. “I have work in the morning.”

“Go home?” Jongin asked, his voice low – dangerous. “Work? Forget them both. You belong to me now. Your mind, your body – they’re both mine.”

“B-body?” Kyungsoo stammered in alarm. His stomach churned uneasily.  “Mind?”

Jongin nodded, dragging his fingertips through his hair with an outward sigh; if he had known that Kyungsoo would ask so many questions, he wouldn’t have bothered bidding for him.

“How else do you expect to repay me?” he asked warily. “Your body is mine to do as I wish; you are nothing but a pawn – you’re disposable. Replaceable. Remember that.  If you do as I say, I won’t kill you. If you disobey me,” Jongin paused, tilting his head to the side. “I’ll put a bullet through your brain.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Kyungsoo nodded slowly; his whole body felt numb. “Where do I sleep?”

“With me,” was Jongin’s simple reply. “I have to keep an eye on you. How tiring,” he added as an afterthought.

The colour drained slowly out of Kyungsoo’s face, his mouth agape. “B-but-” he stammered frantically, waving his hands in front of his chest. With an outward sigh, Jongin shook his head.

“You sleep on the floor. I’m not letting filth sleep in my bed.”

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Kyungsoo in a deep breath and waited in silence. The bedroom was cold, the floor even more so. From the window, the curtains were drawn; the pale moonlight filtered into the room in shifting tendrils.

With his hearing attuned to the soft breathing from the bed, Kyungsoo closed his eyes; it would be best to wait until he was certain Jongin was sound asleep before he’d even attempt to escape. Several long minutes of silence passed as Kyungsoo sat, a thin woolen blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders as he listened carefully. This could very well be the only chance he’d have to escape and, should he get caught … Kyungsoo cringed at the thought of what Jongin would do to him.

Carefully, soundlessly, Kyungsoo lifted the thin woolen blanket and got to his feet; his heart drummed so loudly in his ribcage that he was sure that it might wake Jongin. Shooting a quick glance towards the bed to make sure that Jongin didn’t stir, the breath caught in Kyungsoo’s throat and he froze.

Sprawled across the bed was Jongin, his eyes closed and face relaxed. The thick blanket had been pushed downwards to the middle of his torso, his top half completely uncovered. Taken aback by the perfection of Jongin’s body, Kyungsoo exhaled quietly, closing his eyes. Even somebody as cold and callous as Jongin looked so at ease when he slept.

With his back to his captor, Kyungsoo crept soundlessly through the room, his hands body quivering with a combination of fear and adrenaline. Almost there – almost there. Kyungsoo placed a hand on the cold metal door handle and let out a quiet sigh of relief. He had made it.

A strong arm wrapped around Kyungsoo’s shoulders and Kyungsoo found himself pinned roughly up against the wall. A scream of surprise left his lips and his wide, terrified eyes fell upon those of his captor.

Jongin was furious.

“I knew it,” he growled, his voice low. “I knew you were going to try and escape.”

Narrowing his eyes, Jongin applied more force to Kyungsoo’s shoulders until a small whine reached his ears.

“Now,” he said through gritted teeth. “What am I going to do to you?”

Squirming under the pressure, Kyungsoo’s eyes darted around the room for something he could use as an excuse. He had to go to the bathroom? No, something told him that Jongin wouldn’t buy that.

“Y-you looked cold,” Kyungsoo managed to whisper, his voice quavering. Hesitantly, Kyungsoo focused his attention on Jongin’s bare chest. “So I was going to get you a jumper.”

Jongin thought about this for a few moments, his lips curled upwards into a snarl.

“Is that so?” he asked slowly and Kyungsoo nodded desperately, his hair falling in front of his wide eyes. “My wardrobe is in the other direction.”

Releasing Kyungsoo from his grasp, Jongin shoved the apprentice chef back into the room. He had to admit, he didn’t expect Kyungsoo to try and talk his way out of the situation. The young chef’s ability to lie was almost pitiful, but with a little work, it could become a valuable trait.

“Next time you try that,” he said, watching as Kyungsoo scrambled back to his corner, wrapping the thin woolen blanket around his shoulders once more. “I won’t kill you.”

Kyungsoo was taken aback. Eyes wide with bewilderment, he pulled the scratchy woolen blanket closer to him.

“You won’t?”

“No,” said Jongin, dragging his fingers through his messy hair. “I won’t kill you. But I can promise that your family will pay for your mistakes.”

With his eyes wide in disbelief, Kyungsoo stared at Jongin. Had he heard correctly? That was practically a death sentence. Unable to string a sentence together, Kyungsoo settled for opening and closing his mouth, speechless.

The night had passed in silence, Kyungsoo barely daring to breathe for fear of aggravating Jongin. But, when morning came, Kyungsoo knew not what his future held. Jongin was cold and unpredictable – if he was to so much as move without Jongin’s approval, Kyungsoo feared the worst.

“W-what?” Kyungsoo blubbered, finding his voice at once. With a roll of his eyes, Jongin turned away from him.

“Are you deaf as well as stupid?” he quipped, exhaling loudly. Pacing around the spacious living room of his suite, Jongin paused in front of a beautiful canvas; its guided frame glittered in the light. Kyungsoo could only assume that this, too, was something that Jongin had purchased in the auction.

Studying the painting, Jongin tucked his hands behind his back, wringing his fingers absently.  “I said,” he began slowly, almost mockingly. “To pay back your debt, you are to be used as bait. If you survive, that’s a bonus.”

With a backwards glance over his shoulder, Jongin studied Kyungsoo’s expression as his words slowly sunk in; first the confusion, followed shortly after by horror.

“Bait?” Kyungsoo asked, mortified, his blood running cold. His entire body felt cold; Kyungsoo couldn’t move, only stare at his captor with wide eyes, his mouth agape. “But, that’s illegal! A crime!”

“So was buying a person,” Jongin replied lightly. “Tell me, chef-”

“Kyungsoo,” the apprentice said softly, casting his gaze downwards. “My name is Kyungsoo. Please use it.”

Arching his eyebrows, Jongin folded his strong arms in front of his chest, studying Kyungsoo carefully.

“I don’t care what your name is,” he replied after a short while, his tone overcast. Taking in a deep breath, Jongin relaxed his shoulders. “Answer me this: What is a crime?”

Eyeing the apprentice chef dangerously, he waited until the others timid voice reached his ears.

“A violation of the law,” Kyungsoo said, his voice no more than a whisper. He was unsure of what sort of game Jongin was playing, but Kyungsoo knew that he would not like to be a part of it. To his surprise, Jongin’s lips tugged upwards into a wide smile.

“Correct. Now tell me, who creates these laws? Who decides them?” Again, Jongin watched Kyungsoo closely whilst the other searched his mind, trying to string together a response.

“Government?”

 “Powerful people,” Jongin said with a nod. “Rich people. It is these people, both with power and money, who create rules in order to protect their assets. It is these rules that are called laws. Both right and wrong are merely a value system used by these powerful lawmakers to determine whether their assets are safe. You, for example are now my asset.”

“So,” Kyungsoo said slowly. This was all too much for him to comprehend. Buying humans was against the law but … Did Jongin just call him an asset? “Does that mean you’ll protect me?”

Jongin remained silent for a long moment, caught off guard by Kyungsoo’s question. Slowly, his smile changed into a smirk.

“I said you were an asset,” he said simply. “But I didn’t say you were of any value.”

“Keep your head down and your wits about you,” Jongin growled, shoving Kyungsoo down the brightly lit hallway. “If you say something stupid, you will die. And it will not be on my account.”

They had left the Hyde earlier that morning to attend a meeting on the other side of the city. Kyungsoo was bewildered when Jongin informed him that he will be accompanying his captor, the other dismissed it simply as not trusting Kyungsoo to be left alone.

But, by what Jongin had told him just a few hours prior, Kyungsoo knew that deep down, that was not the case. They were headed for a meeting with the leader of another mafia group; one that Vanguard was not allied with. And Kyungsoo was to be used as bait.

“Right,” he responded with a nod, his heart drumming loudly inside his chest. If his life was at stake, he just would not speak at all.

Trying his best to shake off his nerves, Kyungsoo’s eyes scanned the desolate hallway, desperate to find something to focus on. The stark white walls reflected the light, making everything seem much brighter, but they did very little to help relax the apprentice.

Bowing his head, Kyungsoo focused on his shoes as he followed after Jongin obediently. His mind was racing at the thought of what kind of people lurked in this seemingly normal building. Was all of Korea this … Dangerous? What if they knew just by looking at him that Kyungsoo was an easy target? That Kyungsoo was an outsider?

Jongin had already considered this. Kyungsoo would have been far too easy a target should he have worn his chefs uniform – the only clothes he had with him. Opting to take a detour back to Kyungsoo’s tiny apartment so that he could gather a few things, Jongin wasted no time scrutinizing the size of the apprentice’s home and his – now old - lifestyle.

Only once he was satisfied with what Kyungsoo was wearing – a simple black suit that he would wear to only the most formal of occasions – Jongin ushered him out of the house once more. They had wasted enough time as it was, but it couldn’t be helped. He did not want for Kyungsoo to be killed the moment they entered the building. At least now, he could pass as a very scrawny low rank.

As the pair came to a halt at the end of the hallway, Jongin hesitated, placing a hand on the door knob to the boardroom before turning to face Kyungsoo.

“Don’t say anything stupid if you want to live,” he reminded the apprentice before furrowing his brow, amending his previous statement. “Better yet, don’t say anything at all. I have plans for you. I do not want to have spent all of that money only to have you killed because you can’t hold your tongue. Got it?”

Kyungsoo nodded. By the sound of those who were inside the boardroom, Kyungsoo knew that he would be too frightened to even think of uttering a word.

With an outward sigh, Jongin cast one last glance in Kyungsoo’s direction before pushing the heavy boardroom door.

“In,” he said simply and Kyungsoo followed.

With his hands folded in his lap, Kyungsoo tried his hardest to tune the conversation out. He had very little care for the movements of the mafia, be that Vanguard or any other. Instead, he focused on his breathing – waiting, on edge, for the meeting to come to a close.

Kyungsoo’s presence did not go unseen, but for the most part, Jongin answered any question directed towards him.

“And who is that?” one of the elderly men who sat across from them asked, gesturing to Kyungsoo. “Your bodyguard, Jongin?” He narrowed his eyes jeeringly at the two.

“Nobody,” Jongin replied, his tone overcast. “He is nobody.”

 The elderly man shook his head, readjusting the cuff of his suit jacket. “Who is it?” he repeated slowly.

The corners of Jongin’s lips twitched in annoyance. He wanted nothing more than to just respond in his usual manner, but this man was one of the elders of Hellscream and Jongin was tasked with creating an alliance between them and Vanguard.

“He is an associate of mine,” he sighed, defeated.

“I see…” the Hellscream elder mused. “Tell me, Jongin – what is it you expect from us?”

“Money,” said Jongin simply. “And men. With Hellscream as our ally, Vanguard will be able to lay waste to all those who oppose us.”

“The Sabel Tigers?” the Hellscream elder asked, his gaze set firmly on Jongin.

“Yes.”

The elder pondered, running a hand through his beard, flecked with silver. “Our men? Our money? What makes you think that we will be so willing to give those to you?”

At this, Jongin’s lips tugged upwards into a cold smirk. “Because,” he said monotonously. “We share a common goal."

“I really dislike that man,” Jongin growled as he stalked out of the building, his hands jammed into the pockets of his trousers.  The moment they had gotten out of the meeting, Jongin had passed Kyungsoo his suit jacket to carry; the sleeves of his cotton shirt had been rolled up to his elbows.

“The second Vanguard have finished off those damn Sabel Tigers, the first thing I am doing is killing him.”

“Kill that man?” Kyungsoo asked, alarmed. “But didn’t you just form an allegiance with him?”

“Yeah,” Jongin sniffed, making sure they were far enough away from the building to be heard. “I did. What of it?”

“How can you kill him then?”

Jongin rolled his eyes. How can somebody possibly be so clueless? Letting a long, drawn out sigh escape his lips, Jongin slowed his pace, waiting for Kyungsoo to match his stride.

“Once we have done away with the Sabel Tigers,” he explained gruffly. “There’s really no point in keeping them around any longer either, is there?”

Kyungsoo hesitated before replying. “No,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip uncertainly. ”There’s not.”  

“Please,” Kyungsoo whispered as Jongin gave him a sharp shove forward. "I don’t want to go in there.”

Jongin snorted in response. “And I couldn’t care less. I told you already, you are to pay back your debt with your own flesh. Go in there and lie – try and talk your way out of any troublesome situation. You know what we have come for – get it. Don’t come back until you do.”

“But what if they know?” Kyungsoo asked, his legs trembling. “What if,” he gulped, “I don’t come back at all?”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Jongin left Kyungsoo’s side and walked to the entrance of the warehouse, leaning heavily against the rough concrete wall.

“Please,” he said simply. “If you encounter any issues, I’ll intervene. Now go.”

Reluctantly, Kyungsoo crept into the darkened warehouse, careening to the left. Keeping in the shadows, Kyungsoo skulked, his footfalls soundless against the smooth concrete floor. The sound of laughter reached his ears and instinctively, Kyungsoo pressed himself up against a tall pile of boxes, not daring to breathe.

Closing his eyes, Kyungsoo waited in silence. His heart was in his throat as he listened to the laughter grow distant, the dissonant footsteps of the patrol fading gradually. Kyungsoo was alone again. Jongin was going to intervene if something went wrong. That was, at the very least, reassuring.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Kyungsoo picked himself up from the cold concrete ground, circling the pile of boxes that he had concealed himself behind. His eyes darted around the empty warehouse floor, looking for any signs of information that he could source.

In the far corner of the warehouse sat an open wooden crate – starting there, Kyungsoo decided, would be his best option. Soundlessly, Kyungsoo crept, his eyes locked firmly onto the crate – his prize. It was only just big enough to crouch behind, should the patrol return and that seemed to relax Kyungsoo. He wouldn’t be so vulnerable, out in the open.   

A soft click reached Kyungsoo’s ears and he felt something hard press into the small of his back.

“You have two seconds to explain what you’re doing before I pull the trigger.”

Kyungsoo’s face drained of colour, but he didn’t dare move.

“I’m lost!” he managed to stammer, his eyes darting around for a means of escape. “I think I came into the wrong warehouse by mistake! Please don’t kill me!”

“Nice try,” the voice snarled, pressing the barrel of the gun harder into Kyungsoo’s back. “But where’s the fun in simply shooting you? Are you really stupid enough to come into Sabel territory alone?”

The gun was removed from the small of Kyungsoo’s back before its owner brought the barrel down across the back of his head. Kyungsoo cried out as he staggered forward, pain washing through his body; his head throbbing. Another dull click reached Kyungsoo’s ears and he pinched his eyes shut tightly.

“Who said he was alone?” It was Jongin.

The deafening sound that followed was enough to make Kyungsoo want to cry out in shock. His entire body trembled with fear. Fear of what would have happened to him if Jongin was not there, but at the same time, fear that he, too, might suffer the same fate at the hands of his rescuer.

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin called. “Are you okay?”

Dizzy, Kyungsoo opened his eyes, thankful that he had his back to where his attacker stood, just moments before. Jongin was at his side, dragging the apprentice to his feet by the scruff of his shirt.

“Can you walk?” he asked. “Somebody would have heard that. We need to leave – now.”

Kyungsoo’s lips tugged upwards into a groggy smile. His head ached; his vision was still fuzzy.

“You said my name,” he said airily, leaning heavily against Jongin as they hurried for the warehouse entrance. “You called me Kyungsoo.”

Jongin snorted, letting his grip on the apprentice slacken and Kyungsoo stumbled forward before stabilising himself once more.

“Hurry up, chef.”

It’s terrible. I’m sorry. T____T
Jongin’s quote about law is from the iphone game in which this is based. 
(Link in foreword)
The name Hellscream is from World of Warcraft. Why? Because Warcraft That’s why.