[CONTENTID1]CHAPTER THREE - THE RAID[/CONTENTID1]
[CONTENTID2]

A/N: WARNING, violent themes and extreme feels ahead. Long chapter, too O.O

Please UPVOTE if you like the story so far, it really helps :)

I don't know what happened between the time I was knocked out and the time I awoke. All I know is that when I did wake up, my head was wet with blood, my clothes were ripped and I was sitting blindfolded and tied up in the back of my moving vehicle. I remember all that very clearly. I'd just lost my mother, my sister, Taemin had died protecting me and Jongin was nowhere to be seen.

I hiss at the pain that shoots in my head as the truck I'm in goes over a speed bump. Everything is dark, I can't see through the blindfold covering my eyes. My hands are tied behind my back, my ankles are cuffed together and I have a gag in my mouth. I've been awake for a few hours now but I've kept quiet, I've remained deadly still because I'm fearful of what is to come when they find out I'm awake. I'm not stupid, I've heard the stories. I've heard of the , the tortures, the Japanese concentration camps, the starving regimes. I've heard of it all and I know my future is now in the hands of strangers, merciless strangers at that. Until I take it back - and I will, I'll take it back. I don't know when it'll be or how I'll do it but I refuse to give up. 

I'm the only one left in my family. How can I let an entire ancestry go cold simply because I'm afraid? I owe it to my father, to my mother and to my sister to survive. I owe it to Jungkook and to Min-Hee, to Mr and Mrs Lee, to Taemin. I owe it to Jongin, wherever he is and in whatever condition he's in - dead or alive. I owe it to them to endure everything that is done to me and rise above it. I will destroy whoever took me and took the lives of the people I love. 

The truck comes to a stop and I hear doors opening and closing, footsteps sounding outside the vehicle. I know I'm not alone in the back, I heard the whimpering of other victims until one of the soldiers shut them up with a whip of their gun. That's when I decided that I had to stay quiet. Suddenly, a hand latches onto my arm and I'm hauled out of the truck, my petit body landing harshly on the cold, snow-covered ground. It's cold and I want to scream but I will not give these monsters that satisfaction. I bite down on my lip as someone grabs me by the hair and drags me across the ground. My scalp feels like it's on fire but I endure it, all the way until I feel a change in the type of land I'm on. I'm inside. Where? I have no idea. 

I hear screams and people begging to be let go. They're getting closer to me and I know that it's the other abducted victims. I have no idea who they are or what they look like, I don't know where they're from or when they were taken. I just know that we're on the same boat. My blindfold is removed and it takes me a few minutes to adjust my eyes to the bright lighting in the room. I look around to see that it's some sort of old hall or a church that has probably not heard a single prayer in years but, instead, screams of horror and sounds of guns firing. I look down at the ground. I'm atop a drain and when I look around, I see that the other victims are also. 

My eyes land on a familiar face three bodies over, to my left. I'm about to call out his name when someone clears their throat and an eerie silence falls upon the room. An older soldier, I suspect the Sergeant of this group, opens his mouth to speak. I understand nothing of what he says and panic starts to build in my stomach. I do not want to be punished for not speaking their language but there is nothing I can do about it. A miracle, however, immediately follows. After the sergeant finishes his speech, the Corporal beside him starts repeating him in Korean.

"You've been taken by the People's Liberation Army as an asset to our military force. Your own country has abandoned you and left you for dead. We are giving you a second chance at life," he says and I gulp, glancing at the shaking victims on either side of me. "We pride ourselves as a merciful people despite the harsh time we are in." I suppress a snort. Merciful people do not turn innocent people into half-human, half-machine freaks. I know there is a catch. "For that sake, we will bestow upon you a choice. You may pledge your loyalty to us and join our men in the fight against our enemies or you may surrender yourself to death." Seriously? That's our choice?

"I'll die before I join you filthy beasts!" One of the victims spits and the corporal mutters something to the sergeant, I assume it's a translation. The sergeant grimaces and nods at one of his soldiers. Said soldier walks up behind the victim that spoke up and in a swift motion, draws a Bowie knife under his chin, slashing open his neck. A scream rings loud and clear as his head hangs back, blood gushing from the slit in his neck and emptying into the drain. That's what those are for. I realise the screaming is coming from me and feel a hand across my face. Another soldier just slapped me, shocking me into silence. I try hard not to cry but I'm terrified and the tears just keep falling. The soldier grabs my face and forces me to look at him. He says something in Chinese and one of his friends laughs, another smiling approvingly. If I'd met this soldier under different circumstances, I would've never thought he could be such a horrible person. His features are soft and pretty, almost feminine, but the way he carries himself is dark and menacing. The sergeant speaks up again, followed shortly by the corporal's Korean translation.

"I hope we've made our point. Now, that was a waste. He looked like he could be a strong young soldier," he tuts, shaking his head as if regrettably. I hate him, I hate them all with a burning passion. "The rest of you will be asked one by one. Choose wisely." I close my eyes, hoping to drown everything out until they get to me. My hope is futile because for the next five minutes, the longest five minutes of my life, all I hear are the cries of help, the slitting of throats, the draining of blood and the ashamed mutters of acceptance. I do not blame those people who chose to join the Chinese. Although we've all said at one point or another that we'd rather die than be taken by one of our enemies, the bitter truth is that no one wants to die. Not like this. No one wants to die so wastefully, so uselessly. But then I ask myself if I could possibly kill one of my own people or anyone at all for that matter. I say I will exact my revenge on everyone who's ever wronged me or my family but am I even capable of such violence? Eomma once told me that I have an old soul, a gentle spirit. I think it was snuffed out the day I saw that news report on the first initiation of WWIII. 

I'm pushed slightly and I open my eyes, looking up at the soldier who recently slapped me. He smirks disgustingly, a brow raised. I don't have an answer. I refuse to kill in a war that is not mine to fight, especially for the opposing side, but I also made a promise to my loved ones that I would hang on for as long as possible. 

"I choose death," I answer. I close my eyes and await my future but nothing comes. The sergeant has spoken. I open my eyes again and wonder why I'm still alive, why I haven't been murdered for my decision. The sergeant and the corporal are talking, or arguing, I can't tell. Then the corporal nods and looks directly at me. 

"Spare her. She's too pretty to kill, it would be a waste," he says and the other soldier behind me removes his knife from my throat. My chest constricts and I start to panic. I know what it means to be spared. "Sell her to one of the generals. Sell her at a high price. I think she'll make a good slave."

"NO! HYERIM!" Jongin screams and I snap my head in his direction. He's punched by a soldier and I call out for him.

"Stop! Leave him alone!" I shriek, jumping to my wobbly feet and rushing over to him. I go on my knees and keep my body over his in an attempt to shield him from another attack. "Don't hurt him. Sell him with me, please. I beg of you." Jongin looks up at me and I hold his gaze. I will do everything in my power to keep him safe. I look up at the sergeant and corporal. "Please. He's all I have left." The two men whisper to each other and I hold my breath in anticipation.

"Fine, he will be sold as a slave also," the corporal says and I release the air "But." I freeze, my heart racing in my chest. I can still feel Jongin's eyes on me. "You will be sold separately. No one will pay for two slaves of different genders." My heart sinks but I say nothing, simply nodding. Although it's not what I wanted, it's enough. I would rather know that he's alive but not with me than dead because I did not do anything to help.

"How will I know you haven't just killed him anyway as soon as we part ways?" I demand, a risky move on my part. The corporal repeats my words in Chinese to his sergeant and the other man laughs. He replies and the two men share another chuckle.

"We will keep a record of who has him. In exactly 500 days, you will be allowed to visit him," the corporal answers. "Is that good enough for you, your highness?" Two of the soldiers laugh and I assume they can understand Korean. I respond to the sergeant with a curt nod. Jongin manages to sit up and we both sit on our knees, staring at each other. This is the last time we'll see each other for another one year, four months and fifteen days. The last time I'll see him or touch him or smell him for another twelve thousand hours. And I have no