warning: this shouldn't be as graphic as ch 7 but still kind of a little bit graphic nonetheless

“I-I promise I’ll do anything you tell me to do!” a desperate voice cries, “I-I won’t r-run away this time so let her go, yeah?”

Another muffled scream sounds from the girl strapped to a wooden chair, a towel shoved into . Beside the chair is a bucket of water settled at the feet of the chair and discarded pieces of bloodied nails that were torn off.

“Oh but I can’t,” says a man dressed in all black, from head to toe his head covered with his hoodie and his face covered by a black face mask. Only his dark eyes are visible to the man and the weeping woman, just cold abysses of darkness that could swallow someone whole.

Leaning down closer to the woman, he yanks her hair back to expose her neck. His other hand lets the pliers drop from his gloved fingers and he takes out a switchblade.

“She’s already a witness,” he whispers sternly, chuckling when she whimpers at the feeling his blade cutting into the skin of her neck, “Her eyes have already seen too much.” He slowly moved the tip of the blade so that it points directly over her widened eyeballs.

He clicks his tongue as she squeezes her eyes shut in fear, before he takes the knife and shoves it into her thigh.

Another muffled scream tears through , her face twisting in pain as tears spring to her eyes.

“St-stop it! She won’t spill, you want me right?!”

The man grunts, twisting the blade before pulling it out and pointing the tip at the lanky man strapped down into another wooden chair. Bruises adorn his flesh, his left eye swollen and cut a splitting his right eyebrow.

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” he scoffs, turning back to the woman and wiping her own blood on her torn clothes, “Why not mess with the members of a group that rivals my father’s?”

A laugh tears through the room, the restrained male smirking up at the taller despite his position, “So that’s what this is? I heard about what happened to the other guys and their girls. It’s all because of daddy’s boy here, pfft what a ing lap dog–”

A gloved fist shoots out and crashes into his jaw, the dark eyes of the masked man glaring at him heatedly, “You can shut the up you piece of .”

“So how should I do this?” he sighs, turning away while shoving a hand into his back pocket to retrieve a spoon, “Shall we listen to her scream? Or should I put her out of her misery first?”

At the sight of the spoon, the woman begins sobbing protests into the towel stuffed in , tears running down her cheeks. Her whole body is shaky with trembles, writhing to get free.

“Pl-please don’t let her suffer,” the man weakly says, looking at his lover with apology and sadness.

“Suffer?” the masked man hums, curling his fingers around , applying pressure until she’s desperately trying to in air through her nose. He positions the edge of the spoon at her eye, but she squeezes her eyes shut and retreats from the spoon.

Clicking his tongue, he shoves the spoon back into his pocket in favor of his switchblade, positioning at her jugular.

“You’re moving quite a lot Miss,” he whispers, ignoring the cries of protests from the male behind him, “I think we should fix that for me to do this properly, yeah?”

She starts shaking her head vigorously, however he narrows his eyes and grabs her jaw with his free hand, swiftly slitting . Her struggling halts abruptly, her form slumping over.

“You ing bastard!” the man behind him growls, struggling against his restraints.

“Quiet now, or I’m going to have to resort to waterboarding you too,” he chides calmly, shoving his switchblade into the pocket of his hoodie and fishing back out the spoon.

“Just enjoy the show for now,” he hums, using his thumb and index finger to spread her eyelids.

-

Namjoon grimaced, glancing around at the curious expressions of the detectives in his unit, even Yoongi who was