45: IT'S THE SILENCE THAT KILLS

"Anti," by Zico (feat. G.Soul)

                “Uwahhh…” Naeil groaned. “So men actually live this way…”

                From her position behind the corner of the warehouse, she had a perfect view of Juyoung urinating on the main door. She kept on wavering back and forth between wanting to spare her brain from the image and wanting to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t get away. Then the thought popped into her head that it would be the perfect time to catch him unaware.

                Her phone vibrated. Wait for us, read the message from Seokjin.

                I don’t want him to get away, replied Naeil. Just hurry.

                She put the phone in her back pocket in crept forward. “I’m not being stupid, am I?” wondered Naeil to herself. If she was, what were all those years of judo for? Scooting over carefully, she made her way over to a bit of scrub and ducked behind it. Thankfully, he was already pulling up his pants. He now occupied himself with talking to a rock which he apparently mistook for a toad.

                “Little froggie,” he crooned, “come sit in my hands, little froggie. Come on…”

                Naeil thought to herself that he was more likeable when he was drunk. But that wouldn’t stop her from beating him over the head when she got the chance.

                She could hear her phone vibrating several times, but she just ignored it. They should be coming soon anyway. She could hold him for that long, right? He was standing up straight again, staggering toward the door way. Any more waiting, and he might go back inside.

                Step by step, Naeil formulated her plans, blood pumping harder in her brain. She made her way toward him, staying so low to the ground she could feel a bit of heat from the earth. Dirt pushed up into her fingernails while she crawled.

                “Who’s…there?” drawled Juyoung, turning around.

                Naeil dove for his torso and knocked him over, shoving a leg around one of his to trap him in place. Barely a second before it was too late, she slapped a hand over his mouth. He had let out something like a frustrated gargle before she managed this, but Naeil hoped it wasn’t loud enough to attract anyone’s attention. Her next biggest problem was keeping him from pushing her off with his free hand. She had foreseen this, and now set about trying to flip him over. Even in his drunk state, he was putting up a fierce fight. By the time she got him on his stomach with his arms pulled behind him, he was making strained cries for help. With her elbow, she shoved his face into the dirt, muffling the sound.

                “Good grief!”

                Naeil’s heart pounded. Did someone hear us? She whipped around, catching sight of the figure emerging from the door—Yoongi. A sigh of relief escaped from her lips, and Juyoung took the opportunity to try to jerk free. Naeil his face back into the ground.

                “Aigoo, Naeil, don’t kill the ugly punk yet—we gotta get something out of him first.”

                “Stop nagging and get over here. You have something to gag him with right?”

                He came over and pulled the bandana out of his back pocket, lifting up Juyoung’s head and shoving it into his mouth. The mad look in Juyoung’s eyes didn’t seem to deter him in the least.

                “We need to get away from this door, quick,” he said, hooking his arms underneath Juyoung’s shoulders as if to drag him.

                Naeil picked up his feet without being asked. “What about Jungkook and Seokjin?”

                “Coming. They got deterred. You didn’t see their messages?”

                “I was a little busy.”

                A little smirk pushed at the corners of Yoongi’s lips. “Yeah, I guess you were.”

-------------------

                “Where am I?”

                Juyoung received no answer, just blackness and silence.

                “I said…I said, where am I?!”

                From the shadows of the dusty room, four figures watched where Juyoung sat, tied and blindfolded, doing a better job of scaring himself than any of the others could do.  The single lamp hanging from the ceiling provided only a thin, yellow glow to the room. The flitting spots of light did more to confuse rather than reveal. It wasn’t easy to tell what sort of room it was, except that it must have been abandoned ages ago.

                “I know you’re there,” growled Juyoung. “I know all the tricks.”

                Naeil glanced at Jungkook, who was struggling to hide his anxiety. His eyes kept on flitting between Juyoung and Yoongi, who would interrogate him. It had been hours since they had left him in that chair. Naeil kept on waiting for Yoongi to do something, but he just stood there, watching. He had on gloves and a face mask, which somehow accented the cool, detached look in his eyes. Some part of Naeil worried what someone with that look could do to the boy tied up in a chair. All of his vague warnings about his own character echoed around in her head.

                Slowly, like a cat creeping through a dark house, he made his way toward the place where Juyoung sat. He had taken off his shoes a long time ago, and now he creeped across the floor almost noiselessly. Juyoung shifted slightly, lifting his head. Yoongi stopped walking.

                “You’re there. I-I heard you. I know you’re there!”

                Yoongi crossed his arms and leaned against one leg, as if comfortably observing something that intrigued him. He stayed like that for a long time, ignoring all of Juyoung’s attempts to confirm his presence. Every once in a while, Yoongi would edge forward. Another hour passed, until Yoongi was barely a meter away. Even from where the others stood, they could see the drops of sweat forming on Juyoung’s brow, making the blindfold damp and tickling the hairs on the edge of his jaw. He must be able to hear Yoongi’s breathing by now, no matter how softly he let it out. The air was heavy and Juyoung had begun to talk even more, words flowing out almost without purpose.

                “You’re close to me now, aren’t you? Right in front of me. Oh, did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell? I’m not stupid. I’ve done this a million times. This is child’s play for me. Child’s play. I know what’s going on here. I won’t fall for any of your little tricks. You’re not going to get anything out of me. I’m iron, I’m made of iron. And you’ll all regret this really soon. Because my father will find out. Oh yes! He will! And he’ll find me, and he’ll get me out of this dump, and he’ll kill you. He’ll kill you, and every last one of your little friends. You’ll regret it. I’m warning you. You can’t say I didn’t. You—agggh!”

                Suddenly Yoongi’s hand came down on Juyoung’s shoulder with the weight of led and gripped the muscle there, causing the boy to jump in his chair and topple back onto the floor. He squirmed around, trying to pull himself up, or maybe even get out of his bonds. Yoongi placed his foot on Juyoung’s chest and pinned him where he was.

                “Get off of me! Get off of me! Get off of me!”

                Yoongi just pressed his heel into his ribs.

                “You’re all idiots! You’ll get worse than this when my father finds you!”

                The pressure increased until Juyoung was cried out and stopped speaking. Only then did Yoongi grabbed the chair and yanked it and its occupant back into a normal sitting position. One gloved hand reached out for Juyoung’s neck and wrapped around it pressing into the flesh. Finally, Yoongi broke his long silence, his deep drawl rippling up from the back of his throat like some fountain deep in a cavern.

                “Let’s not make this difficult.”

                Something in Juyoung seemed to crumble a little, but he managed to keep his lips from trembling too much.

                “I…I won’t tell you anything.”

                “You will. Starting with what Sa Hyeo Pa wants with the little church.”

                “Your voice sounds familiar. Are you—”

                “Just don’t even try, okay, kid? Answer the question.”

                Juyoung snorted. “If you’re trying to throw us off, it’s not gonna work.”

                “Throw you off—?”

                “You know why we’re there. Pretending like you don’t isn’t going to help you so you might as well give it up.”

                “Yah,” snarled Yoongi, prodding a finger into his jugular. “I’m not the one tied to a chair right now, so you’d better lose that attitude and answer my question. You know I’m being nice right now.”

                “I don’t get you guys! Why are you asking me about that? You do know who you’re working for, right?”

                “We’re not working for anyone.”

                “Not working for anyone? Why did you hide Park Jimin then?”

                “Park—what?”

                Suddenly, a loud crash interrupted them. Seokjin, Naeil, Jungkook, and Yoongi turned around in time to watch the door of the room get kicked down. Men, all dressed in black, poured into the room, dust from the floor flying up from the commotion and clouding their vision. The three observers in the room were quickly grabbed, restrained, and dragged away. Vaguely, Naeil heard Seokjin calling out to her. Juyoung had started laughing, shouting, “See! I told you they would come for me, didn’t I?! You idiots! You idiots! You’re in for it now—”

                “Get the kid in the bag,” grunted one of the intruders.

                Juyoung’s smile fell from his face. “Wait—you’re—you’re not—”

                The men shoved Juyoung in a brown sack, grabbed Yoongi, and filed back out the door.

Author’s Note

This chapter makes Naeil and Yoongi look like such thugs but it’s kinda funny hahahaha.

But maybe it’s not.

Let me just say, thank you to everyone for tolerating me and staying even though I’ve been so weird lately. I don’t know why, I’ve just been writing reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally slowly lately so I APPRECIATE YOU S’MUCH.