Warning: Torture, violence, and language

“Get down, you bastard,” she cursed as she shoved him to the floor; he gasped as his arms brushed the dirt ground. When he didn’t hear anything else from her, he hesitantly pulled the blindfold down.

He paled. 

This…was this the dreaded basement? This was where she had kept his little brother for who knows how long? His lips trembled as he took in the sights of the multitude of cages that circled around him, his stomach twisting terribly at the fact that there was somebody in each of them. Their eyes were locked on him, the dead, wide eyes stoically watching him. He quivered. Were these…were these her dolls? He turned his head slightly, and his face turned even paler at the sight of the cop strung up by his arms, barely conscious as his half-lidded eyes met his. 

He opened his mouth to scream when she growled dangerously, grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head side to side. He gasped for air when she shoved his face into the dirt, thrashing around when he inhaled pebbles and dirt. 

“How dare you,” she hissed, giving him one last shove before standing up. “You had one task. One. ing. Task.” He struggled to turn his head to see her walk to the lone table, her hands reaching out and lifting something. His doll. He forced himself to get on his knees, his body still sore from the rough way she handled his doll when she slammed him back down, his whole body smarting. “Don’t even think of moving.” 

He heard the screech of metal scarping metal echoing against the hollow cages, and he looked up to see her holding what looked like a giant needle. She held it up for him to see, a maniacal grin growing on her lips as she showed it off. “Do you like it? I keep this especially for my dolls.” She set his doll down on the table as she popped open a box, searching through it until she pulled out a roll of tape. She continued speaking as she began to tape the handle, her movements slow and deliberate as if taunting him. 

“Did you think you were special?” she asked. “That you never had to come down here, did Seok-jinnie ever tell you how lucky you were?”

“I-”

“My only regret is you never got to hear little Seok-jinnie’s screams as I beat him and pierced his skin.” He barely had a chance to look up when she abruptly stabbed the needle into his doll’s stomach, coughing blood when it felt like his stomach was being ripped apart from the inside. He cried out as he rolled onto his side, blubbering as he cradled his stomach. “I trusted you! I trusted you would take care of my daughter!” 

She rammed the needle into the doll’s eye, and he could only cackle breathlessly as he slammed his head into the ground, trying fruitlessly to stop the pain. He didn’t have to look at her to feel her jam the needle back in his eye, twisting violently. He felt blood rushing down his nose, and even though he wanted to move his hands to check, he didn't. He couldn't. He was frozen as she stabbed his back, that goddamn needle sending painful spikes up his spine. 

“That stupid girl can’t even punish you properly. You thought her pounding you with her little fists was painful, did you? You pathetic boy.” 

He heard another clank of metal; though this time he couldn’t even roll his head over to see. He waited with bated breath, trying to ready himself for whatever she could possibly do next. “Do you know how much they want me to kill you? How much they beg me to spill your blood?” 

He screamed when he felt something sharp pierce his leg, and he forced himself to look at her again, not even able to make a sound at the sight of a knife embedded into his doll’s leg. His hand shot out and held his throbbing leg, his heart racing erratically when he felt blood tricking down and an actual hole in his leg. 

“They haven’t ordered me to kill since Saet-byul’s birth, but then you came around. I should’ve just killed you. You were never fit to be Saet-byul’s doll.” 

She drug the knife slowly down his leg, and he retched all over himself when he felt his leg splitting open. Saliva dripped down his chin as she leisurely walked over to him, taking her time as she knelt down in front of him, her face hovering over his. “I’m going to kill you. But don’t worry, I won’t yet. I have to make sure my daughter has a proper doll before then.”

“S-stop, please-” He snapped his mouth shut when the knife shot out, stopping inches from his face. Neither moved for the longest time, the only sound being his heavy breathing and muffled sobs; when she suddenly giggled, jabbing the point of the knife into his cheek. He didn’t dare make a sound, biting down hard on his lip until he felt the taste of warm iron. 

“Do you have any ideas for a proper doll? I doubt another one will willingly walk through the door as stupidly as you.” She pulled the knife out of his face as she traced the side of his cheek, effectively wiping his blood away. “That Hyukkie seemed to have taken a liking to her, I’m sure he would take care of her.”

No, not Hyuk! He was still so young; he would never be able to survive as a doll. She would kill him. She saw the fear in his eyes and cackled. “But he looks a little too naïve; I’m not so sure he’ll be able to do much. But that other boy, the one you’re always hanging all over, he’s perfect! He seems like he knows how to keep his mouth shut, and looks like he likes my daughter too.” 

“NO!” he roared, propping himself onto his elbows as he glared the best he could at her, unable to do much else. 

Surprisingly, instead of being irate at his outburst, she merely smiled, putting a hand on his bleeding head and ruffling his hair. “You think I’m going to listen to what you tell me? I’ll grab that Taek-woon of yours and attach him to Saet-byul. She already knows him; it’ll only be a matter of time before she’ll forget all about you. I’ll even let her keep Taek-woon’s name; it’ll only make things work faster.” 

“Don’t touch Taek-woon,” he hissed, his voice growly as his throat was still coated in blood and stomach acid. Her hand in his hair grabbed a fistful, yanking his head up so that his neck was bare and open. She placed the blade onto his skin, pressing ever so lightly that she only broke skin. 

“They really don’t like you,” she said simply, shaking her head. “They’ve never liked men at all. Hopefully your friend is a good boy; even though they hate him, I don’t want to make my daughter cry again.” She dropped his head and stood up, tossing the knife onto the table with a loud clank. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to get to you guys today,” she said sorrowfully, and it took his tired brain a second to realize she was talking to the other dolls. “Someone was very selfish and made me spend all my time with him.” 

None of the dolls stirred, he noticed harrowingly that none of them even blinked. She either didn’t notice or decided to ignore that, speaking as if they were all saddened by the mere idea. 

“I promise I’ll come back later, so don’t fret, okay?” She carelessly tossed his doll on the table before heading straight out the door, the room falling dreadfully silent the moment she was gone. 

He didn’t want to move. Everything hurt and the blood was starting to crust on his skin, every movement causing it to crack and burn. With only the silence and numerous unblinking eyes welcoming him, it wasn’t long before the whole weight of the situation hit him. 

She was going to kill him.

He was going to die. 

His shaking hand shakily moved over the gash in his leg, realizing with horror that that gash was real, and she had really cut him. His hand, disregarding how it only shot up more painful rivets through his body, flew to his eyes, his fingers trembling when he felt his completely intact eyeballs. He pat down his stomach, not a single scratch there nor his back. He coughed another blood-filled spit ball before rolling onto his back, the smell of his vomit burning his nostrils. 

“Hurry and stitch your doll.” His eyes snapped open at the sound of the foreign voice, turning his head and nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw one of the dolls pressed up against the glass. The look on his face was purely haunting, his eyes wild and dark bags pulling down the wrinkles on his face. He his thin, cracked lips before pressing a finger onto the glass, pointing. “Stitch your doll.” 

“W-wha…?” 

“Stitch your doll!” He scrambled over onto his stomach as he attempted to drag himself over to the table, his doll’s torn leg hanging off the edge. He winced and squeezed his eye shut as his whole leg went numb, throbs of pain washing over him. “Needle and thread in box!” He blocked out the doll’s shouts as he weakly reached up, brushing his doll’s leg enough that it tumbled to the ground. He grunted when he felt as if he’d taken the fall himself, and he reminded himself bitterly to be careful. 

“Chair! Chair!” He blearily noticed the lone chair and used it to prop himself up, somehow pulling himself up enough to sit on it. His vision was blurry as he felt around the table, finding the open box and haphazardly grabbing a needle and thread. “Stitch your doll!” 

He picked his doll up and the torn stitching, heaving when he felt a ripple in his wound. Not a good idea. 

“Stitch your doll!” 

He wasn’t sure what the doll meant by ‘stitch your doll’, though a still working part of his brain reasoned he must mean stitching up the tear. So, despite his eyes growing heavier and heavier with each passing second and his leg numb, he messily stitched the tear closed. 

The moment he cut the thread with his teeth, he was surprised to feel the numbness in his leg go away. He immediately felt along where the wound had been, pulling up his pant leg to see the cut had closed itself, only a long, puckered scar left. He felt along the scar, feeling absolutely no pain, and his brain shut down. He was barely able to put a hand in front of his face before he toppled into the table and his entire world went black.

“Hey…wake up…hey…how much longer are you gonna stay sleeping hyung?” His frazzled mind barely picked up the familiar name, his eyes throbbing as they refused to open. He was too afraid to move, too afraid to feel that unbearable pain again. "Hey! Lazy ! Wake the up!” 

His eyes snapped open, and for the briefest second he could see his baby brother glaring down at him. He scrambled up, ready to grab him in his arms and never let him go, when the world stopped spinning and his brother disappeared. Instead he looked up to see a  man sitting on what looked like the remains of a couch, his long, matted hair framing his sullen face. He stared at the man for a few long seconds, waiting for him to say something else, but it was like he was a statue; he couldn’t even see his chest rising. Was he-? 

“He’s dead.” His head snapped to another man in the same cell, crouched in the back corner and peeking out over his knees. “He died the other night.” 

“W-who are you…?”

The man laughed, bringing his knees down as he sneered back at him. “I’m surprised you would ask that kind of question. Hak-yeon.” He started, not having heard his real name spoken out loud in who knows how long. He could barely remember how long it had been since he’d first stepped into this hellhole. The man clocked his reaction and chuckled, crawling forward until the sound of metal clanked, and he finally noticed wires attached to his back. “Have you already forgotten your name?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, the sound of his name still ringing in his ears. He didn’t realize how much he missed just the sound of saying his name, and he fought back tears that flooded his eyes. 

The man’s eyes surprisingly changed to one of pity, sitting down and placing his hands over his knees. He noticed one of them bent unnaturally, and he quickly looked away. “Don’t worry, none of us remember our names. You wouldn’t be the first. “

“D-did-”

“We only know your name because Seok-jin used to talk about you.” 

He froze at the mention of his brother’s name, and he forced his tired body to crawl over to the man’s cell, gripping the bars in his hands. “You…you knew Seok-jinnie? Where did she keep him? Did she do anything to him? What-”

“She didn’t do anything to him,” another voice said softly, and he looked over to see the cop trying to keep his head up, the piercings in his arms bleeding. “They told me…she left him alone.” One of the chains jostled and he hissed, his fists shaking. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry Hak-yeon ah. I’m sorry I couldn’t get you two out of here.” 

“I…” He scanned all the cells, now finally getting a look at all the dolls she had trapped down here. His stomach lurched at the sight. Now that he was awake, they had all come to the front of their cells to get a glimpse at him, their wide eyes almost childlike. Thanks to the hanging light over his head, he was able to see all the sick, twisted things that horrid woman had done to these men. He could feel bile rise to his mouth at the amount of wires that were pierced to their skin, scars running over their bodies and other numerous deformities. He looked away when he saw one with bones protruding out of his skin. 

“Why didn’t she touch Seok-jin?” 

“He was meant to marry Saet-byul.” He crawled over to the new speaker, pressing his hands against the glass as tears ran down his face. 

“What? She…she wanted to do what with him?”

The man stared down at him pitifully, sighing as he knelt down in front of him, placing a hand against his. “Eun-ji never grabs anyone so young. She wanted to find someone for Saet-byul.” 

“Then what was I for? Why did she make me a doll?” 

“None of us know what goes on in Eun-ji’s head. She could have grabbed you for any reason; it would have made sense to her. Though…it looks like you’ve pissed her off, she’ll probably kill you.” His hands fell to his sides in disbelief. She trapped his brother…trapped him and forced him to become a doll…just so he could marry Saet-byul? That was the only reason she kept him? 

“Is…is Seok-jin okay…?” His head whirled around to see a man, no, he looked barely a teenager, peering over a shard of broken glass. He could tell from the way the boy’s shoulders bled that he had tried multiple times to crawl out of the cell. The teen reached a hand out at him, his eyes lost. “She hasn’t brought him down for a long time…is he okay?”

These dolls…they didn’t know Seok-jin died. They didn’t know he killed him. 

“Seok-jin…he’s dead.” He could barely control himself as he whispered the words, a new wave of guilt washing over him. He’d been able to distract himself from that guilt by always being with Saet-byul, showering her with the love and affection that had been meant for his brother. It had worked to some extent; he had been able to go almost back to normal. But now… 

The teenager’s face paled, his hands slipping away as fell back onto a small stool. He watched the boy bury his face in his hands, distorted sobs racking his body. “I knew I shouldn’t have…I should’ve stopped him.” 

“What do you mean?” he demanded, wobbling as he attempted to stand up and only ended up falling against the glass behind him. The man in the cell tried to catch him, slapping the glass wall uselessly and watching him carefully. 

“Don’t move too fast,” he said softly. “Even though your body wasn’t wounded physically, it’s still tired.” He ignored him as he shuffled across the room to where the teenager was crying, his hands shooting over the broken glass to grab him by the collar of his tattered shirt. 

“What do you mean you should’ve stopped him?” 

“Seok-jin and I came into the house together,” he blubbered, his eyes full of guilt and pain. “When they dared him…I went in with him.” 

He felt his knees buckle and his body give out, taking both him and the boy down and scraping his arms against the sharp glass. Seok-jin hadn’t gone in alone? When the gang Seok-jin had been hanging around had run up to him, shouting that his brother hadn’t come out of the house, they’d said he’d went in alone. Never did anyone mention another boy going in with him. Not only that, but with the times he had tried asking Seok-jin about that day, Seok-jin had said he went in alone. 

Then who was this boy?

“How did you know him?” He tried his best to sound threatening, though at this point he was so exhausted his voice came out barely more than a whisper. 

“W-we went to school together-”

“Seok-jin didn’t have any friends in school. It’s why he skipped all the time.”

“I-I-”

“Don’t be too hard on him,” the guy behind the glass sighed, “he’s been here long before Seok-jin. He probably doesn’t even know which way is up anymore.” He looked back over to the boy to see him still blubbering, tears and snot running down his face. 

“You said she doesn’t take anyone as young as Seok-jin.” 

“He was here way before most of us. Only Chun-pyeo knows how long exactly, but he won’t say.” He pointed with his thumb to the cell next to him, where only the back of a man was visible. His hair ran in waves down his back, and at the sight of his grungy appearance, he could only imagine how long he’d been kept here. “He and Seok-jin were in the same cage. The kid probably thinks they were lovers with the way his mind runs.” 

He ignored the guy’s comment as he softened his look at the boy, knowing now how long he probably suffered here and how close he had been with Seok-jin. He spoke in a softer voice, keeping it light and easy to help him calm down. 

“You loved Seok-jin, didn’t you,” he said softly, and the boy nodded, his hands suddenly tightening around his own so hard his nails drew blood.  “Thank you for taking care of him.” 

“Bin…Bin loved Seok-jin. Bin wanted to protect him...” His hands shook. He was thankful his brother had somebody with him when he was down here, even if that somebody looked like he lost his mind a long time ago. He opened his mouth to comfort the boy, one of the other guys snapping at him to quiet, when the door slammed open, everyone freezing. 

Her face contorted at the sight of them holding hands, and he could only hear his heart pounding in his ears as she descended upon them.