She was tied to the ceiling, an endless waterfall of tulle around her her like a cloud. Chanyeol almost stopped to stare at her, eyes wide in marvel: she looked like an angel, but he was running out of time. Somebody had called the police, he could hear the sirens through the walls, and to their eyes they were criminals no better than Exo. He had to get out of there, fast.

Knife in his mouth, he climbed up the stage, nails on iron, cutting his skin on loose screws and bolts, but he didn’t care. She was right there with all the answers he needed and he wasn’t going to let her escape this time.

With a clean cut, he shredded the rope, just in time to catch her in his arms, heavy the weight of the unconscious body, and make it down with his hands completely bruised. Nothing else mattered, she had to wake up now and start running or else they would have been caught or worse: riddled with bullet. He didn’t want to die just yet, he had a mission.

He put her down and began calling her name, lightly slapping her face until she finally opened her eyes, still full of all the atrocities Exo had made her suffer. Her skin was bruised and her wrists had red hacks carved into them, a sign she had been hanging onto the ceiling for a long time.

“Chanyeol, how…?” she started asking, but he silenced her with a bloody finger.

“There’s no time. Do you still have the cassette?”

She slowly nodded, confused, but immediately caught up. He violently pulled her back up and made her sign to start running behind him, hands tightly wrapped in his grasp. They sprinted like there was no tomorrow, because it could really be transformed into reality by one single bullet and they were still very glad to be alive and breathing.

All over the floor were corpses of those who hadn’t made it, costumers and policeman still in their own suit, their faces unrecognizable under the horror striking their features and the blood spilled on their skin. Flesh and pieces of brains scattered everywhere made the floor slippery but they seemed to have wings on their feet, or perhaps the devil behind their back, and flew through the long hallways in a matter of seconds.

Chanyeol could still hear the sound of bullets far in the distance and picked up the pace even more, dragging her with him with steps far wider than those she was able to make.

When they finally made their way to the Great Hall again, they were welcomed by an atrocious scene, far worse than what they had seen so far: a mountain of corpses laid in the center of the room, unhinged arms and legs, flesh and organs brought on the outside, torsos and heads rolling down like marbles on sand… and on top of it all there was a young man, knife in hand and completely covered in clotted blood.

In that moment Chanyeol knew only two things: first, that was not a person, it was the devil incarnate and that room was the new Hell, ready to claim other bodies. Second, if he saw them, they were dead meat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was completely out of it. He felt high, blood pumping in his veins like and his vision clear. It had been a really long time since he had so much… fun. Because as much as he didn’t want to admit it, waltzing with death was a pleasure he longed for.

He looked every day out of the window reminding himself that he was a human, he should have had an ethic of living but he didn’t. He had to suppress everything until he finally blew up and it felt wonderful. They had to pay, each and every one of them had to pay because the only nice, no, beautiful thing in his life had been ripped alive from his hands and now it was time to claim what was his.

“Jongin, I’m coming for you”

With a large step, he blindly came down from the pile of bodies, not even noticing the two tiny figure near the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The car was there, the engine was ready, his money was safe and sound in the back seat. Jongin was ready to run.

Unfortunately, the universe was not done with him.

Suddenly, he was beaten down on the hood by four strong arms in a bulletproof armor, red liquid spilling form his nose onto the hard metal and the sound of his bones fracturing somewhere along the ribs’ line exploding in his ears. The barrel of the gun aimed at his forehead, the trigger already half pulled.

He couldn’t see anything but red and black, but he heard someone approaching him from behind, yanking him forward to meet the hood again.

“This is for my father, you ing bastard”

The last thing escaping his lips was a laugh. When Kyungsoo would eventually find them, they’d become minced meat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is where the story ends.

Chanyeol saw the exit and thought: this is the end, we’ve won. Suho, Sehun and Lay were to wait for him outside and warm up the engine for a quick escape, but what as waiting for them was nothing they had expected.

The police had surrounded the building, guns and assault rifles aimed in their direction, ready to fire at any moment.

The girl at his side tightened the grip on his hand and whispered him something, something he would never forget until the day of his death. She took a step forward and that was the end.

They made her sit in one of the ambulance cars and took them away, handcuffing him and kicking him senseless on the ground, bullets ready to carve some new holes in his head.

Nevertheless, he was still smiling. He had the cassette. He had the ing cassette and he was untouchable.

 

“Don’t lose hope. You’re still alive and they’re already dead”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jongin wasn’t there. They had taken him away.

Kyungsoo grimaced and started counting.

How many knives did he need to take down the police headquarters?

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

 

Breaking news: finally vanquished the infamous Exo group.

By reporter Byun Baekhyun

With the witness of the now released from prison journalist Park Chanyeol, the underground mafia group called Exo that apparently had its hands in all high power departments has finally been brought to justice.

A word from the journalist Park: "ing finally!"

More on page 3…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You are hereby invited to Kim Minseok and Kim Jongdae wedding next week.

Dress code: only black suits, no white and red allowed. No family members if not on the list, especially fathers.

PS: bring your personal weapon, it may come in handy.

 

Jongin smiled and carefully placed the letter in his copy of the Bible, the only book they had given him since they had locked him in that maximum security prison waiting for his death sentence. Ironic, really, given the lack of devotion he had always shown in what his mother worshiped like the only God.

It had already been five months and Jongdae had already found the way to gamble his way out of prison; talk about sneaky guy.

But even after everything had happened, Jongin was still happy for the two of them. At least part of the family was living happily and free.

Now, if only someone could come already to pay a little visit it would have been wonderful. Five months and Kyungsoo was still out there, a fugitive wanted in four countries and still counting, but no news of him was heard since the big massacre of the Seoul police headquarters two months prior. Over a hundred bodies now no more than meat dumplings. When they had read him the news, asking him in the last of their interrogation if it was his work, he had just smiled.

Of course, he was still searching for him.

His cell had no windows, his bed was the floor with the only cover of his orange jumpsuit and still the worse thing was the irrepressible feeling that made him scrape his nails on the hard concrete and scream in the dead of the night, eating him from inside like a hungry beast.

Love.

Kyungsoo.

He wanted to laugh. He was slowly losing his mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You have a visit”

Jongin looked up, sat on the floor like every single day of his new life, but didn’t move. He kept his eyes shut.

“What does the priest wants this time? I told him I’m not religious”

The guardsman didn’t reply, just handcuffed him and yanked him out of his cell, dragging him down the hallway into the visit’s room. Jongin still didn’t even want to open his eyes, he was tired and weak.

“I have nothing to say to you” he yelled at the window pane.

But.

It was not the priest that answered him, but a familiar voice.

“Are you sure? I’ve spent a long time searching for you and you don’t even want to say hello?”

Big brown eyes, dense and deep like an ocean, full lips stretched in a smile, thins hands placed over the glass ready to meet his own. A stranger with a familiar body, a killer unrecognizable without his weapon,  but it was still him. Jongin wanted to scream.

“Kyungsoo”

The young man smiled again and Jongin felt like melting. HOw many days, how many hours had he counted, reviving the fantasy of him coming to get him? Too many ,far too many.

“Hi there”

“What are you doing here?” asked the other, suddenly very aware of his position and the presence of over five guards in the room “They could catch you anytime”

“Don’t worry, I’m here to bring you out”

In a blink of an eye, something heavy and dark appeared in his hand, something that closely resembled…

“A grenade?!”

Kyungsoo nodded, only to grin wider.

“Hold on tight”

Jongin had not even the time to breathe in that Kyungsoo had already broken the glass wall with a battering knife, thrown the grenade over his head in the directions of the guards and yanked himself and Jongin under the shatterproof table, waiting for the blast.

The whole floor blew up, madness and chaos exploding along with the fire. All hell was cut lose, screams and desperate cries boomed all over the room, however, Jongin had far more important matter to sort out.

Kyungsoo looked like a mess, head half shaved and his hair changed to a darker bloodshot color, his face a map of scar, some freshly made, some old and already healed. ON ein particular ran over his left eye down his cheek, leaving a light mark over the lid. And he still was damn beautiful.

“I was waiting for you” he said, a smirk finding his way on his face after such a long time.

“Me too”

A second explosion could be heard from the outside, that two-faced Baekhyun’s work to distract the prison’s emergency team to let them escape, but they didn’t hear it: lips softly placed on lips, they were tangled in a kiss that they had been waiting for far too long.

The world could wait a little bit more, Kyungsoo thought, still tangled his Jongin's messy embrace. He could take care of the guns aimed at his head later.

 

 

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Guess who comes out of the grave to drop unedited and poorly written ending? Ah ha, me obviously.  (I will edit it tomorrow).

This was actually just an experiment to see if I could write something with a bit more action in it and I can honestly say that I'm disappointed in myself, but it only means that I have to improve.

Thanks to everyone that has taken the time to read this abomination *shoots hearts and hugs* and feel free to write your impressions in the comments^__^

BYEEEEE