Breaking Even - Chapter 3
(Poster by : Shriya_4)
Title: Breaking Even
Pairing: YooMin, YunJae, BFF!YooSu, Changmin-Centric
Length: Chaptered
Rating: R
Genre: Horror, Romance, Drama, Heavy!Angst, Band!Fic, Dark!Themes, Tragedy (Not Character Death)
Warnings: Strong Triggers. Violence, Sasaeng-culture, Rape, Torture, BDSM, Drugs, Language, PTSD.
Disclaimer : The Boys - Yeah. Right. The plot - All mine, any resemblance to any other work is purely coincidental.
Summary A sasaeng fan is out to get the boys. Feeding on the insecurities of the youngest member, she draws him and the other four into a world that's worse than death and the very reflection of hell on Earth.
A/N: Graphic depictions of rape and torture. Please don’t read on if you’re triggered by things like this.
Chapter 3:
Yunho gazed unseeingly, as his three remaining band mates surrounded the bloodied shirt.
Their hands were coated a deep scarlet as they buried them into the essence of the lost, searching, searching, searching for something that would lead them to an unforeseen salvation; one frighteningly pale, the second lifeless and the third completely and utterly destroyed.
What are they going to find? Blood, skin, hair - death?
He wondered…detachedly, what the police officer was asking him too; dully aware that the man was shaking his arm… violently, vying for some kind of attention that he was unwilling, no, incapable, of giving.
“-unho-ssi! Are you listening to anything I’m asking you? Yunho-ssi!” He turned his head slightly and looked at the man, his eyes gaunt - haunted.
How can you make this okay?
Will you bring him back for me?
Are you capable of finding him for me?
Is he alive?
Get him back.
Bring him back to me.
Please.
I don’t know anything.
I don’t know where he is.
I don’t know if he’s okay…I don’t have any answers.
Find him.
Please.
I’d give up everything to have him back.
The officer faltered and stepped away. Startled and slightly frightened by the look of total and utter desolation on the young idol’s face, unable to form the words that were only moments before tumbling out of his mouth like a well rehearsed lie of consolations and reassurances.
“I-I ..”
Yunho waited.
He waited and waited, and waited, and waited.
But the man wouldn’t, couldn’t, say another word.
The leader turned away looking almost amused, letting his head fall back against the door and trying in his own way to deal with the hopelessness of everyone around him.
He laughed hollowly.
His fear.
His anger.
His misery…
All accumulating into one horrible, horrible, bout of hysteria that he just couldn’t do anything about.
“Sir!” One of the junior officers shouted from the door after having systematically gone through the mess on the ground for clues.
Something the leader found grotesquely morbid and curious, notwithstanding the overwhelming desire to vomit.
“Did you find something?!”
“A card and a key. The card has something written on it…”
“Let me look at it.”
The man moved cautiously away from Yunho, whose laughter had long since turned into violent and uncontrollable sobs, and crouched down beside his more than traumatized subordinate, trying desperately to suppress the sudden urge to escape; quietly asking the other to find out what he could about the key.
Jaejoong shuddered and grasped the shirt tightly to his chest, causing everyone in the room to flinch as he let out an animalistic keen, his shoulders wracking and wrenching with every painful cry.
“Oh God,” he whispered brokenly, the metallic stench of his donsaeng’s blood flooding his senses.
Making a home in his senses and he wondered if it would ever go away.
“Oh God, not you. Not you. Please not you.”
Yoochun walked listlessly to the door, his mind unable to register what was happening around him.
“What does the card say?” He asked softly, his voice flat, unfeeling, afraid.
Steeling himself away.
Why?
Because he couldn’t deal with knowing.
Knowing whether his reason for living was still a reason.
“It’s a poem…or something…I can’t really tell…it’s smeared.”
Yoochun’s breath hitched as he reached down and cradled the blood covered card in his hand, his heart thundering deceptively in his ears.
“What is this…?” Yoochun asked, bile rising up into his throat with a near vicious force, his voice trembling; his body shaking with fear, “What the fuck is this?”
Junsu shot out of the arm chair and ran over to where the older stood hyperventilating and wondered almost simultaneously if the other’s asthma would get the better of him. “Yoochun, calm down.”
“Calm down? Do they think this is funny? They want us to fight for his fucking soul? How the fuck does that even make sense?!”
Idiot…
Of course it’s his soul, Yoochun.
The one single thing you went out of your way to destroy.
You made him question his existence in your life.
Now they want to make sure he never does.
They’ll take him away and you’ll be left with nothing.
Just like you always deserved, you sad pathetic man.
You’re left with the blood on your hands.
Yoochun jerked out of his tormented thoughts when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to find the subordinate looking at him with empathetic eyes.
“I’m sorry, but I feel like you should hear this. I took the key and tried to figure out what it belonged to. Your building’s superintendent said that it was the key to your mailbox-“
Junsu’s eyes widened, the gravity of the situation becoming increasingly pronounced, “They had the key to our mailbox?”
“It appears so… and…”
“What?”
“We found a tablet in there.”
“A tablet?” Yunho murmured from the other side of the room, genuinely confused, “Like a pill?”
“No, not a pill. The gadget…” the subordinate stated, trailing off and swallowing painfully.
“What about it?” Yoochun snapped, impatiently. His nerves long past shot.
“There’s a video in there,” the man stated quietly, shooting concerned glances at Jaejoong who’d suddenly gone stiff.
“A video? Of what?”
“I-I…I don’t feel like it’s the appropriate time to-“
“What the fuck was in the video?” Yoochun shouted, grabbing hold of the man’s collar, his hands shaking, voice trembling, eyes wide, heart broken.
He couldn’t deal with this. How was he supposed to even try to deal with this?
What are you going to do, hmm?
Punch him?
Will that make you feel better?
Violent, violent love.
Your desperation amuses me.
The man uncurled Yoochun’s fist from his shirt and sighed uncomfortably before holding out the gadget and waiting for him to take it.
“I have to warn you. I’m not quite sure if you’re ready to see something like this.”
Yoochun growled and snatched the object away.
What could possibly be worse than what they’d already been dealt?
He turned the thing on with a tiny ping and waited for whatever lay within it to reveal itself.
Jaejoong was just about to lay the shirt aside and join the rest when he heard the first blood curdling scream rent the air.
X
Changmin screamed and screamed and screamed, his mouth filling with his own blood as he bit down on his tongue.
“Look at this slut,” one shadowed voice stated amusedly, “He’s enjoying every second of this.” “Dong Bang’s Maknae always did love some good old one-touch loving,” another laughed, watching with perverse fascination as the third, the only other girl apart from the one whose house they were in, moaned wantonly as she rode Changmin’s flaccid cock, her hands reaching out to tighten the ropes around his arms and neck as he fought to get free.
“S-so good…” she whimpered, her skirt riding up to her hips and her shirt unbuttoned, “Nnn, Oppa, you feel so good. We always knew you’d be big…Nnmm so fucking good.”
Changmin tilted his head back and let out a sound that oscillated between a scream and a helpless wail.
He was so tired of crying but it wouldn’t stop.
His throat, the only thing that he held dear to him had been so thoroughly abused that he could barely do the necessary to save himself.
He cried because he was too tired to call for help, cried because he’d never felt so violated in his life, so exposed.
They hadn’t given him time to think before they’d had him chained to the floor.
He’d barely yelled before the person raping him had decided to rub herself against him and begin her long drawn out session of total and utter violation.
What help?
There is no help.
There’s just this…and it’ll never end.
Never.
Everything hurt.
His body was covered in shallow gashes, his hair had been mutilated to unrecognizable proportions, the chains chafed through his skin like burning hot embers and his throat felt like it would collapse within itself what with the screaming and the rope tied precariously around it.
“Please!” He whimpered pathetically, “Please, I’m begging you,” he spluttered through his blood-drowned mouth,
“Please just let me-“
“You want more, Oppa?” She asked as another mewl escaped her swollen lips, “I want more too…” she whispered as she leaned over to lap her tongue against his broken lips.
He turned away in disgust and screamed as the other girl, the one who’d brought this misery on to him, dug a blade into his side, ”Behave, Oppa. You don’t want to disappoint your fans do you?”
“Get away from me, you filthy bitch.” He croaked out, his head thundering, his mouth filling with a vile concoction of blood, saliva and bile; his entire being feeling ripped apart at the seams.
“Shut him up.” She stated simply, moving over to adjust the camera so that it could focus on the last boy that had stood quietly beside her, his eyes twinkling maliciously.
“Gladly,” he murmured, unzipping his pants and clutching on to his rock hard member, “I’ve been waiting for this since we got here.”
Changmin wondered detachedly how people, people, could be insane enough, cruel enough to gain so much pleasure out of another’s misery, from the power, the utter lack of consent, the violation and the pain.
He was battered and bruised, but they’d looked past that.
They’d made him this….but he was just an object that they’d beaten into submission.
He wasn’t a human in their eyes.
No. He was something that needed to be possessed.
You are possessed.
He couldn’t describe it, the feeling of being so helpless; to be so at the mercy of someone else.
He was once Choikang Changmin.
He’d been a God.
Now he was nothing more than a toy.
Broken and put together with cheap tape.
He was broken and lost.
He belonged to no one.
Poor little Changmin.
In the end, you will be a person who belongs to no one.
Soon you’ll want to die.
And die you will.
Unless…
Just… unless.