He gasps in fear as he looks at the dozens of mercenaries, a good five meters away, leaving him with no escape. They had a tattooed cross on the side of their necks. Stomping their feet, they came to a halt with leathers, whips, and tasers—that he was all too familiar with, in hand.

 

“You have no escape, 029.” The person in the middle, says, looking at him. He was in a crimson waistcoat, a crimson top hot and a black ascot tie hanged his neck. He had a scar on the right side of his face that runs past his brow down to his cheek. He too, had a cross; the only difference was that it was engraved on his skin, like he was born with it. “You belong to me, I paid for you. You are my property.”

 

“I don’t belong to you!” He growls, barring his teeth and balling his hands into a fist, his eyes a frozen fear as he tries to think of an escape.

 

 Anything.

 

“Oh, but you do.” The man laughs, the sound echoing into the silent night.

He stops cackling and moving all together, slowly looking at the child in front of him, “Capture him!” He orders, raising his hand, his finger pointing at him.

He closes his eyes in fear, wishing—begging—that it, whatever they call it, would somehow work now. That all the time he refused to eat those pills, which makes them unable to use it (his friend told him to stop taking it.), would somehow work. He covers his left hand with his right, closing his bruised fingers on the ring on his thumb.

Help me, please!

The last thing he hears are the mercenaries, along with the man yelling profanities as he feels his body closing in on itself, like it was trying to shrink, his bones were aching and his stomach was swirling.

And then it was black.

 

 

“This place stinks.” A tall, slightly gray haired man said.

“Quit your yapping, Chanyeol.” Another said, his eyes rimmed with kohl as he looks at the latter in annoyance. “I’m tired from the mission and you’re still annoying as ever.”

“Yeah? Doesn’t change the fact that it stinks as .” Chanyeol smirks at him, the latter rolling his eyes.

 “Okay, seriously. Shu—Wha—hey!” A man gasps in shock as a body falls on top of him. “g—guys—“

“Shut up, lu—What the is that?!” A man with porcelain skin looks at Luhan and the thing—a human!—on top of the latter. He marches to Luhan in hast, looking at the person before looking at Luhan.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun came barreling in, looking at the distress Luhan and the person on top of him. “Where—How did—“

“I don’t know!” Luhan snaps, “Will you just help me up?! I’m ing panicking here! Minseok!”

And that seem to have snapped the man’s reverie, holding the person by the armpit and lifting him up—doesn’t take too much force for someone so small—the person’s loose shirt sliding on one arm. And this time, it’s minseok along with the other two, who gasps.
 

 

Luhan who was cringing at the patches of blood on his white shirt, looked at them “What?” He asks, annoyed. “Let’s just send him to the hospital, he might die from blood lost.“

The three do not respond as they continue to look at the person’s chest, Luhan stands up, dusting off the dirt on his pants, he heads to the three, “What is i—oh.” Luhan furrows his brows before he exchange glances with minseok, nodding his head.

“We better get back. Quick.” Minseok says with finality.

 

 

“Ah, you’re back so early, Young masters.” One of the watchmen at the entrance of the academy shot up as he walks to them, not noticing the figure Chanyeol was carrying until he was near, he freezes and stare with wide eyes. “What is—“

“It’s an emergency, Sir.” Minseok nods, smiling a little.

The watchman nods frantically, touching the gate with his palm and they watch as it disappears into nothing before walking in, a sight that they had been too used to. The gates slowly return with the watchman removing his hand from the gate, or what was left of it, and it returned.

“Thank you.” Baekhyun bows.

“Hyung, Can you help me? He isn’t exactly light.” Chanyeol puffs out, his arms trembling from carrying the man.

Luhan snickers before looking at the person on Chanyeol’s arms, he furrows his brow and the man slowly started to rise, like it was flying—levitating. They proceed to walking with the person following—levitating—from behind with the use of Luhan’s power.

“Baekhyun, inform the others to go to the infirmary. Chanyeol, go to the headmaster. Tell him it’s an emergency.” Minseok says with authority and they raise their right closed fist and put it on the left side of their chest, the other hand on their back, bowing.

They knew that this was an order, and although they were friends since way back.

An order is an order and one should not disrespect that.

 

 

Baekhyun runs to the opposite direction, easily maneuvering himself in the dark, as he had memorized the pathway that he had grew up in.

Also with the help of his power.

He turns round the corner, before dashing yet again only stopping when he neared a gate, dozens of flowers snaking up on it, making it almost unnoticeable.

He places his hand on the moist stone that supported the gate a scanner that checks who was entering, he taps his foot in annoyance, waiting for the gates to open and when it does, he dashes through the doors of the dorm, banging on the walls to call their attentions.

“Order!” He booms, startling the people who were on the first floor.

“What?” A man with a stoic face said, standing up. Sensing the panic in Baekhyun’s voice, he nudges the person next to him.

“infirmary, now.” He emphasizes, “let’s go.”

 

 

Chanyeol walks to the quarters only to be stopped by a watchman. “off limits.” He shows him his badge that indicated who he is, bowing his head in apology for his apparent rudeness. “Emergency.”

The guard nods at him, tapping the door twice before Chanyeol turns the knobs of the door. He walks down the hallway, stopping in front of a door that had a dove engraved on it.

Knocking, he clears his throat and opens his mouth, “Master.” He calls out.

He hears the shuffling of someone from the other side, waiting for it to open. “Chanyeol?” he asks, “Come in.”

Chanyeol then turns the knob “Master, we have a bit of a problem.” He says after bowing to the man that was looking at him, perplex written all over his face.

“Chanyeol, it’s 12am.” He tries to rub the sleep off his eyes, trying to think of a coherent reason as to why this child came to his room at such an hour. “I still have work to do. We can talk about it to—“

“We found someone, he’s just like us.” The man raises his tired eyes at the latter, his expression changing to serious, and standing up he looks at the latter in the eyes.

“Where is he?” He asks.

“Infirmary. He’s bruised and unconscious.”

The man nods his head, walking to the door along with Chanyeol. “Let’s go.”

 

 

The person on the bed stirs as he hears the constant talking and arguing.

“Kyungsoo is not in the dorms, Master.”

“It’s okay, I know where he is.”

“Wait, that’s mine!”

“Shut up, he’s gonna wake up because of you!”

“He’s gonna wake up because of you!” another one growled.

“Shush!” He could feel the authority from this voice. “he’s waking up.”

The person slowly opens his eyes only to be greeted with the harsh light from the ceiling, “Oops” one person had said, and suddenly, it was bearable.

He closes his eyes once more, reveling in the relief of his bruises before his eyes shot open. He swiftly rises to his arms, pushing himself towards the headboard, panicking, and then he feel s pain in his abdomen, his arms, everything but he doesn’t care about that now because where was he?!

 “Wha—what—“ he  crosses his arms on his chest like a protective barrier, cringing as he feels a wound opening, looking at them one by one, tears pooling in his eyes.

The man, who Chanyeol had called master—also the headmaster slowly walks towards him, the other flinching in fear.