Archive of Our Own

“Still don’t know where you are, newbie?”

Mark squinted, his vision blurring as he struggled to see through his blurred vision. His back ached with every move, causing him to roll his shoulders back, a loud crack resonating through the cell.

A cell?

Mark whipped his head around with enough speed to give him nausea, the world tipping in front of his eyes. He pressed his eyes closed, clutching his head in his hands. What had happened? He was walking back from tuition, wasn’t he? There was no one around him a that time…he had made sure of it. But then he wouldn’t have woken up somewhere he didn’t know, obviously taken against his will.

“The sedate they gave you was enough to knock out an elephant. Good job for holding out and not dying”

There was a soft thud as someone landed lightly in front of him. Mark could make out the voice of the boy, now chuckling darkly. The cemented floor was cold under his bare hands and feet, enabling him to focus his senses and gain some lucidity. Just as he managed to gather himself, a coarse hand grabbed his chin and forced hit up. Mark found himself looking straight into a pair of dark amber eyes.

His face had smudges of colour that almost blended into his tan skin. A faint red streak stretched from his lips to his left cheek and golden glitter sparkled over his eyes and over his temples. There was also a blue streak on his right cheek, curving up to meet the edge of his face. The look was strangely alluring, as unique as it was. Upon closer inspection, his face was also dotted with moles that went down to his neck, but there was a faint lien of light cream that connected them, as if someone had carved a constellation on his skin.

“No shock they chucked you into this unit, of all of the ones that exist,” the boy smirked before jerked Mark’ chin away, walking towards the wall he had come from –which Mark now saw had a hammock that hung as higher than his height if he stood.

That didn’t seem to be a problem as the boy grabbed onto a cloth that hung from a metal ring implanted on the ceiling and pulled himself up as easily as climbing a ladder.

Mark had definitely seen aerial dancers do it. However, now that Mark could properly see him, the boy didn’t better off than what Mark felt. His hair seemed to be brown, except there were rainbow streaks as if someone had poured dye onto his hair and left it there. He wore a tight shirt that was so thin, Mark could make out the curves and sharp angles of his slender body. His shorts didn’t even reach half his thigh, baring the cruel slashes and bruises on his legs.

On his neck hung a necklace where at the end a rectangular piece of metal hung.

The boy swung onto his hammock, raking a hand through his hair. “They like watching my aerial performances, you see? They installed my bed this high up so I could access it once I managed to master the art.” He leaned forward curiously, almost tipping over. “Like what you see, newbie?”

Mark, taken aback by the statement, shook away the shock and sent a withering glance at the boy. “I have a name. It’s Lee Minhyung.”

The boy tutted, rolling over and twisting the hammock masterfully around his waist before hanging upside down, back curved.

“Too long, newbie. I’d suggest you make that shorter or else they’ll give you pet names.” He let out a laugh that didn’t sound quite sane to Marks’ ears. “I was called Donghyuck, once. Then they said it was too long and wanted to call me Hyuck, but that’s a little private to me. Now they call me Haechan”

Haechan reached out a foot to snag the hanging cloth before tying his foot with it. With a quick movement, he released himself from the hammock and Mark let out a cry of fear as he free fell. That is, until the cloth tightened and he hung upside down. Haechan gave out maniacal laughter, pointing at Mark.

“You should have seen your face!” he cackled, bending his body up and twisting his limbs around the cloth so he was now sitting comfortably in mid-air. His gaze was predatory, as he swung back and forth, a lopsided smile on his face. “Now, what is your name, newbie?”

“Mark, then” Mark stated, feeling vulnerable at the sound of his childhood name being said aloud. “You’re crazy.” 

“Mad as a hatter,” Haechan agreed.

There was a squeak as the door behind Mark –which he had not noticed at first –was pushed open, and a boy in a tank top and startling white hair walked in, eyes narrowed at the sight of Mark. He shifted his vision to Haechan, giving him what seemed to be a withering look.

“You’re scaring the crap outta the newbie.”

“Always the party pooper, Jeno”

“My name is Mark” 

The looks the boys offered him were enough to make him shrink back in shame. Under the dimly lit room, Jeno’s muscles looked all the more prominent. If Haechan looked like someone had splattered together a rainbow, sunshine and liquid gold into a pot and prayed that the concoction would work out, Jeno looked like a sculpture made out of porcelain. 

Red eyeshadow had been applied to his eyes, matching his somewhat intimidating presence. However, someone had marred the right side of his face with cuts deep enough to leave brown scars criss-crossing over his pale skin. Unconsciously, Mark raised his hand to pass it over his own cheek.

“You know, he’s pretty gutsy for a newbie. Wonder if they chose his cause of that. You now we’re nearing the legal age – “ 

“I’m twenty” Mark spoke up.

Donghyuck blanched, twisting himself free and sliding down, landing gently before approaching Mark. It suddenly occurred to him that he was still sitting down, and Mark hurriedly scrambled to his feet. Now that he was standing, he realized he was taller than the other two.

“Yeah…he’s probably not like the type to spread his – “Donghyuck was silenced by a firm hand his mouth. Mark watched in mild amusement as the situation progressed with Jeno pulling away with a growl of disgust, Donghyuck’s stuck out tongue enough evidence on what he had done.
“Anyway,” Jeno said in a low voice, wiping his hand on his pants. “Not all of us are as insane as Haechan over here. Trust me, I’d rather be chained to the dart table and thrown knives at than ever rooming with him.”

At that statement, Haechan gave pout, puffing up his cheeks like a blowfish. The fact that these kids were probably not older than him and could mess around with each other while being in a godforsaken cell bewildered him. He didn’t intend to lose his mind this early into his adulthood.

“Anyway, we’re going on stage soon. We need you to get ready, and get your act figured out or you’ll be grilled for dinner.”

Mark blinked at the absurd order. It seemed as if Haechan had forgotten that he’d just open up after being sedated for God knows how long. “No…I’m not gonna be one of you freaks.”

Almost instantly, their eyes narrowed and Mark realized a little too late that he had crossed the invisible line. Jeno looked away before heading for the door, throwing his hands up in annoyance.

Haechan’s glare at Mark was deadly. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“You’re not giving me any option to be nice, huh?” Haechan hissed before he looked behind Mark. “Chenle, get him down.”

“On it!”

The voice had shrieked into his ear, and as Mark whipped around, he realized a boy was standing beside him. He could have sworn that there was no one, a split second ago. The boy, Chenle, had a round face and porcelain white skin. Alike to Jeno, his hair was white but seemed to be shaded to match his skin. He wore loose fitting shirt and shorts which were the same shade of his hair. He was almost ghost-like in appearance.

“Good night, Mark!” Chenle grinned before Mark felt something come in contact with the side of his head, knocking him out. The last thing he heard was Chenle saying in a very incredulous tone “Stole the pan from the cooks. Might keep the meat off our table.”

-

Drowning. He was drowning! Wait, no…

Mark blearily opened his eyes, squinting as the cold water stung his cornea. He could make out the giggles of some people around him, sounding muffled as the throbbing behind his temples blurred out his senses.

“Crap, headache,” Mark mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut before reopening them. The first thing that came into sight was a brown paper bag with two holes. It took him a second to realize it was actually being worn on someone’s head, someone who was peering down at him. “Wha – “

“Looking good, Markie-boy,” a very familiar voice called out. Mark snapped his head sideways, fast enough for his bones to let out crack, to stare at Haechan. The golden tinted boy was draped over a sofa, his head hanging off the edge lazily. As Mark peered closer, he realized that Haechan’s eyeliner had been done and was stretched beyond the edge of his eyes to curl over his temples and down to his jaw. 

“Why are you-?” Mark started but was cut off as something was pushed into his hands. It was an oval mirror. The person who had handed it to him was easily one of the most mesmerizing people Mark had ever seen –although it was granted that everyone in the place was strangely pretty in the first place. 

“Look at yourself,” The pretty cotton candy pink haired boy replied, jerking his chin towards the mirror.

Hesitantly, Mark looked down at his reflection. 

And almost dropped the mirror.

“What the – “

Blonde hair that was brushed up and to the side, the shade making it almost impossible for him to hide. Dark eye shadow making his mismatched eyes look all the more alluring, his cheekbones prominent from the highlights and contours.

He looked like the angel of death.

“Jaemin is a genius at makeovers,” a soft accented voice spoke from under the paper bag. “Don’t worry. It’s not permanent, unlike most of ours.”

Jaemin scoffed, rolling his eyes and leaning back against the sofa. The feathery pink scarf he wore was pulled tighter against his neck. Mark held in a squeak at the bruises that dotted the side of it. They looked strangely like –

“Anyway. Jisung and Chenle are going through their episodes” Jaemin stretched his arms upwards, relishing in the crack that followed. He gave out a low cough, wincing at the sound before turning towards Mark. “The babies need their mama bunny, so imma go~”

Mark grabbed his arm as he stood up, sudden fear prickling under his skin. “Wait, what’s going on?”

A collective sigh resonated around the room, and Mark realized all the boys he had previously met were present. In the corner, Chenle was cuddling what seemed to be a taller boy with a youthful face who was absentmindedly flipping a wine glass in his hand.

Haechan followed his gaze. “That’s Jisung. Youngest performer here, and most probably will be forever. I doubt that they’ll add anyone as young as he was.”

“Performer? Mark repeated, blinking in confusion. He tried not to feel hurt as the other kids inside the room exchanged exasperated glances. “Is this some sort of circus?”

“You could say that,” Jeno shrugged, shrugging on a vest that was buttoned over his stomach, barely covering his bare body. “We’re called a host club, though.”

A second of silence passed, then another. 

“What the heck is a Host Club?”

Simultaneously, they turned to Jaemin who flipped back his scarf with a flourish, casting his heavy gaze onto Mark. “It’s ethereal kids who are too good looking to be sold off subject ourselves to entertaining full grown men who are capable of killing us all”

Jisung walked up and threw what seemed to be a black inner shirt and black trousers on marks’ lap. He didn’t say anything, simply looking over at Chenle to explain his intentions. 

“If you don’t get that Sungie is trying to make you wear that, I’ll brand you as the oblivious one before any of those filthy men could give you any other label.” Chenle jerked his chin towards the clothes. “I suggest you wear them or there’s the risk you’ll die”

Mark spluttered. “Wait, die? Is this some sort of dance until you die scenario?”

“More like appease or you die” Haechan slurred, bending his back backwards from the top of the sofa so he was looking at Mark upside down. “Injun is using the changing room, so just strip down here or else you’d have your trousers halfway up when they come barging in.”

The statement received a scoff from Mark. “He can’t be changing that long.”

“Not when he has to wear a thousand masks and hide some too. I never figured out how Renjun changes his masks in a split second, but it gains him quite the audience. Pity he has to hide his face, though. He used to look like someone straight out of a history book.”

He slid backward until his hands pressed against the floor. Haechan lifted his legs off the sofa in a forward cartwheel before landing on both his feet. Over his tight clothes and short shorts, he wore a transparent thin shirt that fell to his knees, glistening under the lights. 

“Half his face was burnt in a freak accident during his first run. I’d suggest you look out for yourself in case anything happens.” Haechan turned away to help Jisung with his back clasps. “Have your performance ready, or else you won’t come out alive. Twist them between your fingers and put them under your spell. If you master that, they won’t be able to lay a finger on you. Control them before they control you.”

-

He felt like skinned chicken.

Everything felt so exposed from the way the shirt clung to his skin and stretched to reveal the slightest hint of his skin tone, the way his pants pressed against his backside and the way his forehead was exposed. The remains of the cold hairspray Jaemin had vigorously sprayed onto every inch of his hair with the defense of “I’m making sure you don’t die” still lingered on his skin.

He followed reluctantly as two men flanked him from both sides, accompanying him through the maze of tunnels. The place smelled metallic under the overwhelming scent of sanitizer. Every time they took a curve, it became more evident that it would be impossible to escape.

“Whoever you are, kid, you better put on a good show,” The man on his right stated bluntly, the threat behind his words hanging dangerously over his head. “The last few newbies were disappointing.”

Mark swallowed heavily.

“I don’t know what you have that made the Boss tell us to take you in,” he continued, purposely taking out a knife and twirling it between his fingers. “Take this as a challenge, kiddo. I prefer to see you at the table rather than on.”

Once again, Mark was confused as to what he was implying. The man didn’t seem to have any intention on explaining as they neared a pair of metal doors. As the two men pushed them open, bright neon lights momentarily blinded him and sudden music overwhelmed his senses.

It was noisy, very noisy. The room was decorated in dark colours, not a single window presents to let in light. Spotlights rotated as they hung from the ceiling, causing various large spots of colour to move on the floor and walls. Men were seated here and there, flushed with glasses of wine in their hands. Ripples of appreciative mutters arose every few seconds, and mark realized the men were surrounding the boys he had met earlier.

Most of the men were in front of a hanging cloth almost alike to the one in mark’s room, watching as Haechan spun and masterfully let himself loose in mid-air, occasionally calling down teasingly to the men as they suggested more tricks and positions for him to try. Mark could hear them calling Haechan ‘Angel’ as he twirled in the air and smiled down sweetly at them like the name they had given.

There was a bar at the side of the room where some men sat and watched Jisung flip glasses and bottles with extreme precision, popping open bottles in which a cheer would arise as Jisung prepared their orders. It was strange watching such a young soul become a bartender. What made him so enchanting was how he did not pay any mind the men and kept quiet, not a sound coming from his lips. It made his presence stronger, and the men leaned forward as Jisung threw water into the air from a bowl and caught it in a cup which he emptied in a wine glass.

“We’ll take you to your corner. Boss determines your place, so make do with what you get.” 

They passed by a small raised platform in the middle of a circle of bean bags. Renjun stood in the middle as the men watched him with predatory gazes. He swayed with the music, passing his cape over his masked face in a split second to reveal a different mask that was star patterned underneath. He seemed more lively and expressive with his movements, leaning forward to tease the viewers for not figuring out his trick. He passed a hand over his face and the mask switched yet again to a half mask that glinted gold. Mark could see the burns from under the mask, pale pink against white.

The front of the hall room was way more lively than the back. As he went farther, he saw Jaemin sprawled on a table with Jeno pressing on top of him. Men surrounded them like hounds, yelling out drunken suggestions and pressing Jeno’s back so he’d draw closer to Jaemin. From afar, Mark could see the lovesick glaze in Jaemin’s eyes and the quiet predatory Jeno’s own eyes held. However, Mark was reminded that they were performers. The two boys could have fooled him from afar, and he looked away before the back of Jeno’s head could be pushed down.

“Helping out with the newbie?”

Both men and Mark jumped as Chenle appeared from behind one of the two, his grin wide. Almost instantly, the two men’s gaze softened.

“Playing hide and seek, again, Lele?” one of the men asked in a low voice, almost flirtatious as he advanced to graze Chenle’s cheek with the back of his hand. “What deal did you strike with them this time?”

If Mark had not known he was a performer, he would have been fooled by the way Chenle’s gaze darkened into one of mystery. When he spoke, his voice was tinted with accent, perfectly sculpted to sound alluring.

“Who could find me would be able to have me for the night,” Chenle smiled before examining his nails. “No one has found me yet, unless you want to join the game”

“You know we’ll never find you.”

“That is true.” He looked over at Mark and winked. “Unless you look right under your own feet.”

A stream of giggles was released before he took a step back and melted into the shadows, disappearing a split second later as if he had not been present on front of him in the first place.

“Mysterious young boy. Almost has no presence,” one man mused before Mark found them dragging him to a crescent shaped sofa with a single table in the middle. Some men were already there, cheeks flushed from warmth and chatting amongst themselves. Upon seeing Mark, their eyes scoured his body, every angle and curve that was present and Mark had to remind himself that he was legal.

A firm hand pushed him forward into the pit of predators, waiting to launch themselves upon him. Mark felt something in his stomach swell as he passed his gaze upon the hungry gang members. He let himself move towards them in slow, soundless steps.

“Twist them between your fingers and put them under your spell.”

Something sparked in his chest, the beginning of a flame. There was a thrum in his veins as the first of the adrenaline in his body ignited the start of the thrill. The tension in his body bled out.

“If you master that, they won’t be able to lay a finger on you.”

A challenge. Mark always found challenges interesting, especially when it came to the manipulation of minds and observation of behaviours. The people I front of him were pawns on a chessboard. Simple minded and easy to play. His nerves settled like the end of a storm. He was in a familiar setting. It was no different than -

“Control them before they control you.”

“Like what you see?” Mark slurred, letting the hint of his accent tinge his Korean. He moved almost panther like into the empty spot they had created in the middle. These men wouldn’t touch him for now, testing the waters. He let his eyelids fall halfway shut, feeling his long lashes shadow his eyes. “I’m not much of a flashy person, but I have my own way.”

He tapped the glass of wine one of the men had lifted up to his lips. He watched as the men followed his movements as if enchanted, letting their gaze settle on his small slow gestures. It was always fun to toy with people who were to supposed to gain something from you. 

“You’re a pretty one, boy.” Someone Mark didn’t bother to look at said, his voice dripping with lust. “What kind of entertainment do you have in store.”

Dropping his gaze, he tilted his head to the side, baring his neck before curling his fingers over it lazily and watching the men stare. After a second, he rolled his head back and leaned his elbow against his knee, settling his chin on his palm.

“The boy has a name, but the name is a secret” he whispered, watching them lean forward to listen to his voice. “The boy has a home, but the home is a secret. The boy has stories, but the stories are secrets.”

A ripple of murmurs passed over the group as Mark let his gaze travel to every single face in his vision. The music seemed to blur as Mark trapped them with his voice, keeping them in his world and gaining control over them. 

“What of these secrets?” someone asked, not realizing he, too, was speaking barely above a whisper. He had moved the first pawn, and the game had begun. Mark hid his smile of glee under a smirk. 

Mark hummed to himself, reaching out to elegantly take a black fan one of the men had left on the table. “Secrets can be hidden within a shroud of lies as easily as they could be hidden within a shroud of truth. Secrets are the pride of men that are shielded by dignity built around hearts of iron”

With a swift movement, he unfurled the fan before covering half his face with it. Through the eyes of the men, he knew how he looked while dressed in all black, his angled face prominent with his glossed blonde hair raised to reveal how dark his eyes were. An angel of death, an angel with no name. Mark would remain nameless. That would be who he was.

“There is a game I enjoy, a game of secrets” Mark tilted his head as the men shifted under his gaze. “My stories are secrets, but secrets are meant to be hidden. Sharing secrets are as intimate as a promise spoken at the eleventh hour. A thousand words, a shift of pace. My stories are ones unheard of, and if you can guess which part of the story is the truth, you have already learned one of my secrets.”

One of the men raised his chin, perhaps to gain a sense of presence when Mark was taking it all. Heads turned to look at him, following Mark’s line of sight. “And what would be the end, then, nameless boy?”

His fan was pushed closed with a snap, instantly drawing the attention back to himself. His eyes no longer bore a dreamlike gaze, instead turning dark as he spoke with a low flirtatious voice. “You figure out my story, and you’ll have me spread in front of you like a map.”

He tapped the fan against his chin, relishing in appreciative mutters they shared. “Will you play my little game, then?”

And Mark knew he was the one in total control at that moment.

-

 
“Newbie is having fun, isn’t he?” Chenle smiled, appearing from behind the dotted white cloth Haechan was twisting as he took a break. Donghyuck’s eyes flickered to the gang men before he quickly spread the cloth, hiding Chenle and himself from their view. “They’re calling him Pandora, of the girl who released darkness into the world – “

“And hope” Donghyuck interrupted, his eyes falling onto Mark who was seated far away from his stage area. “The Boss must have chosen him due to his charm and presence. He’ll attract more people”

Chenle fell quiet, taking in Donghyuck’s words. The silence conveyed a clear message between them, one they did not dare speak aloud as the men tried to peek behind the cloth from where they were sitting. The whole way they fetishized them and drooled over their forms of entertainment was disgusting. Of course, Haechan loved playing with them the way he played with everyone else, but he always had a line that should not be crossed.

One major thing that did not sit well him was the way they treated Jeno and Jaemin like mannequins. Both had been so close to being killed when they first performed until Donghyuck and stepped in and blatantly lied to the men’s’ faces, claiming they were wild lost children who could not be set apart, who could only love each other.

It had saved them that day, and they had gone to preparing their act. Donghyuck’s words had protected them from being pulled apart, but it had come with the burden of the performance. Donghyuck knew they had to bear the consequences of living, though he would have preferred if they died clean anyway. They had months left before they tuned legal.

He didn’t want to think of what could happen then. For now, he let the men touch him and guided their hands over his curves in order to pull attention off of the two. Regardless of whatever relationships the two had formed, Donghyuck didn’t think the two were comfortable being pushed around like dolls.

Oh…right!

“We won’t tell the blondie, okay Lele?” Haechan grinned before he pulled himself up the cloth, clipping his see-through shirt between his thighs. He knew Chenle would disappear from sight, hopefully until midnight struck. He twisted the cloth over his limbs and let himself hang in a butterfly pose. Cheers arose and people popped corks off their bottles, wildly splashing the foam onto the stage. 

High. He felt high off of the cheers that resonated off the walls. Something in his mind snapped and Haechan felt his world brighten considerably. Someone might have spiked his drink again, but it was always drunken or drugged Haechan that would take the attention. He barely remembered a time when he was free of that stuff. It made thinking awfully difficult.

“Put on a show, Haechan” he whispered to himself, basking in the spotlight as he turned himself upside down and shed his shirt to leave his tight wear the only thing keeping his body hidden. “The stage is yours”

-

“How far will you go with the story telling act, Pandora?”

Mark turned to meet Haechan’s eyes as they set their plates of meat on the table in front of them. Strangely enough, the performers had their fair share of food even when their living spaces were no different than being a prisoner. They shared their dining space with the many gang members, their table right in the middle on a raised platform so the men could feast their eyes on them at all angles.

“As long as I can until I can get find a way out of here,” he replied under his breath, hearing Jisung breathe out a sigh of relief as he sat down. “There’s no way I’m going to be doing this for the rest of my life.”

Haechan shrugged, dreamily resting his chin on his hand as he poked at the pastrami with the edge of his fingers. Mark looked down at his own, suddenly feeling something sink at the pit of his stomach.

“Is…it poisoned?”

Even under the paper bag, Renjun seemed to give him an incredulous look. The boys exchanged looks of exasperation before they dug in, clearly amused at how paranoid Mark was. It didn’t take long for hunger to overcome doubt and he dug in, letting out a satisfied grunt at the perfectly seasoned meat.

After a few bites, he realized everyone was looking at him with what seemed to be mock. 

“The dude was a tough piece of meat. Wonder if they soaked him in milk.” Jaemin sighed, poking at the piece of meat again before casting a side glance at Jeno. “Don’t you agree?”

Tough piece of meat?

Jeno nodded appreciatively. “I mean, he came from a good place. Must’ve been all the juicy fats.”

This caused a ripple of laughter to pass over the table. Mark sat there confused, wondering what kind of joke they shared.

“City meat is always the best meat” Chenle agreed, his next words cut off as the mafia’s cook, an old woman whose skin sagged and folded at her neck, set leftover soup in front of them in which they said their thanks and waited for the cook to disappear behind the door before continuing. “Of course, it must’ve been frozen for about a week –“

“Make that two weeks” Haechan piped up, side eyeing Mark as if sensing his confusion. Mark felt like he was surrounded by predators, keen on watching his every movement. If those men were easily swayed by his honeyed words and elegant movements, these kids were probably the exact opposite.

They had been playing this game for far too long.

“I never expected Lucas to survive, though” The aerial dancer continued, his hooded eyes looking all the more alluring under the white light as they fixed on Mark humorlessly. “I did warn him that they would have their hands on him if he used more brawns than brains. He wasn’t as special as we are, Pandora. He wasn’t a silent game player behind the face of a pawn. He was a prisoner with a crown on his head.”
Jeno leaned forward and took the soup ladle, slowly scooping up some of the meat and lifting the ladle out to let the holes at the bottom drain out the soup. He then pulled forward Mark’s plate and placed the contents of the ladle on it with a sly grin.

“No one wears the crown except for the king” 

An eyeball stared straight at him with its nerves still connecting, and Mark held in the bile that rose at the back of his throat.

-

Mark found himself lonely most of the time, wandering here and as they others polished their acting gigs in the entertainment area (save Haechan who usually twisted and twirled in their room singing nursery rhymes). There wasn’t much he could do to practice his storytelling other than figure out how he’s lie himself out of the next one.

Still, he found the fact that he had to share a room with possible lunatic downright unsettling, so he usually made his way out whenever the small voice at the back of his head made a point that he should do so. Thus, he found himself passing by one too many people with sheathed guns and piercings casting him glances that Mark assumed was supposed to be seductive.

Though they looked like utter idiots in his perspective.

Thankfully, there was a hands-off rule whenever they weren’t doing entertaining business which protected him from ever getting laid before the time came. Well, there was something positive after all in the hellhole. It didn’t erase the fact that he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. Who knew what would happen once they realized he was, indeed, legal. He didn’t want to stay around long enough to find out.

“Hey, you’re the mysterious kid, aren’t you?”

Mark closed his eyes, inhaling a slow breath before releasing it, falling into his persona as easily as he had before. When he turned, a man in his late twenties was looking down at him. He towered higher than any other gang member he had met, but he was less tainted in terms of looks. His skin bore no scars and he had a youthful face. His eyes, however, reminded Mark of a bird of prey.

“You’re the first one to approach me using words,” Mark spoke in his low voice, carefully crafting his words. “I have to say you interest me.”

The man smiled, and but his eyes remained as cold and predatory as before. “I have to say, Lee Minhyung, you really fit the description.”

His voice caught in his throat at the words. His name…this man knew his name. If Mark had placed a mysterious presence upon himself before, he was now projecting a powerful aura meant to instil fear. The man wasn’t swayed the slightest, his smile not faltering as he approached the younger boy.

“I’m Johnny, Johnny Suh,” he said leaning down so his lips were right next to Mark’s ear. “I’m the one who hired you.”

With that, Mark lashed out instinctively with is fist, Johnny dodging with his hands clasped behind his back neatly. He was obviously amused at how fast he managed to make Mark lose his cool. Still, that was because Mark was a ticking time bomb ever since he woke up in the underground base. There was frustration, desperation and hatred packed in that one punch and Johnny wanted nothing of that.

He had much better things to do than get a black eye from a mere child.

“Patience, kiddo,” Johnny tutted, grabbing Mark’s fist as he threw another hook at him. “There’s a reason I got you into this hell pit other than to put you on display.”

He sidestepped the next attack and neatly folded Mark’s arm to his back, grabbing the back of the boy’s collar before pushing him into the nearest room. Mark stumbled in clumsily, whipping around just in time to see Johnny lock the door and pull out a gun. The weapon was held loosely in his grip to seem not threatening, but Mark could see how the tips of his fingers pressed white against the base.

The man was dangerous.

“Let’s have a man to man talk, okay Minhyung?” Johnny asked, sitting himself down on a metal cabinet, gesturing for Mark to sit on a different cabinet in front of him. Reluctantly, Mark complied. “I must say, when I was researching on you, I was pretty impressed. High grades, bright future, the best among the best. But honestly, if that was what I was searching for, I’d kidnap the gifted kids from the private academies.”

Mark didn’t dare to speak. Now that he knew the man would not fall for his tricks, he felt vulnerable. He let himself fall back into his original persona, clamping his lips tight and squeezing his hands between his thighs. Scared…he was very scared.

“What caught my eye was the fact that you were involved in a case regarding your brother, Lee Taeyong, a few years ago.” Johnny grinned as Mark blanched, eyeing the way the boy was now seething at him. Family always brought out the claws of people. Johnny liked seeing their eyes change, it was intriguing. 

“What would you know about him?” Mark hissed under his breath. “He’s overseas and making a life for himself. Whatever dirt you dug on him will be invalid anyway –“

“Simply because you made sure of that” the gang member interrupted, chuckling lowly. “Didn’t you, Mark? I’m sure you took extreme measures to make sure the reputation of your dear brother wouldn’t be…tainted.”

“You don’t know shit”

“I know everything about you, Mark Lee.” The elder tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Or else, I’d make the wrong choice and bring in a kid who’d get killed a day in. I’m sure you’re well aware of how the entertainment system here works. You don’t do your job BANG you’re dead.”

Mark jumped at the bang sound Johnny made. His heart drummed painfully against his chest, the adrenaline in his veins making him vibrate in his seat. 

“Want me to remind you what exactly you did, Mark? How you placed an innocent man in jail simply because you convinced him he had done a crime he had no involvement in?” Johnny raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t expect debate training to pay off like that, did you? Still, people won’t think that would be possible, but the tapes say otherwise.”

Tapes…he had the tapes. Taeyong was in danger!

“Don’t worry, your brother isn’t who I was aiming for. It’s you and your gift of words, Mark Lee, Lee Minhyung, Pandora, whatever you want to call yourself. But I didn’t get you kidnapped to entertain people with words, Mark. That would be so low of me.”

Oh?

“I selected you because you’d be fundamental to stop the illegal activities this organisation has been doing for a long time. Illegal activities involving children. You get what I’m saying, Mark?”

Mark swallowed down the bulge in his throat. “Child trafficking? Is this what it’s about?”

“Ding Ding Ding!” Johnny smiled, placing his chin on his palm. “You have the kids on your side too, so I’d say your chances of getting out of here are high.”

“The kids? Escape?” Mark caught on, leaning forward curiously. “They’re all planning to escape?”

Johnny nodded. “They’re smart, Mark. I made sure I’d have them in the org, and now you. But they don’t know about the trafficking…so if you’d be kind enough to guide them that way. They never told me about the escape plan, Mark, and they’re not even aware that I was the one who recruited them here.”

Something stirred unnervingly in Mark’s stomach. “Then, why are you telling me?”

The predatory gaze was back, making chills run down his spine. “Because the chances of getting out of here are slim, and there’s no way anyone will escape without sacrifices, especially since you are unarmed and have smaller builds. The security here is tighter than most prisons. I did the calculations, and let’s say if all seven of you are involved, only one will get out of here alive.”

He was still waiting for the imaginary bomb that hung above their heads to drop. 

“Then…what are you saying, exactly?”

The man stood up, brushing his hair back with a wide smile on his face. He shoved his hands inside his pockets before bending down slightly. “Take six children who’ve been drugged weekly for the past few months, eating human flesh to the point that it doesn’t bother them anymore and have probably lost their minds at this point in time. Now, take you whose very sane, naturally gifted with something that may secure you a bright future and are currently the most morally clean. Do the maths, kiddo.”

He turned and made his way out, leaving Mark all alone in the room to gather his disarray thoughts. It was evident what Johnny had implied. He had given him a chance, but a task to do. Freedom was so close yet so far.

Johnny wants me to survive. 

-

“Still overthinking things, sweetheart?” Haechan called, hanging upside down from his hammock. “I told you, the faster you cave in, the easier things will get.”

That didn’t help much. Mark did the mental calculations and went through his planned. He needed to get out before the next round of drugs (which would most probably gradually bring him to submission) were given out. That was six days away. If the other entertainers were in on a plan, he had to wait until they gave in and told him.

But they had to trust him first, which was the problem.

“How easy would it be to cave in early?” Mark called, looking up towards the teen. “How sure are you that we’ll rot in here?”

“Oh! Very sure indeed!” Haechan replied, pulling himself up before sliding down the cloth and landing on the floor soundlessly. He sauntered towards Mark, his tight leotard making every curve and angle of his body look catlike. “I watched the batch that came with me try and get out. They were shot at less than a minute later, falling like broken dolls.”

Haechan had experience. He had seen people try to escape. If Mark hadn’t known that they were planning to escape, he’d think the edge in his voice was defeat. Now, Mark could only hear sarcasm dripping from his lips and encasing him in an alluring aura. 

“You’ve seen people go mad in here, then?” he asked, watching Haechan slump onto his mattress. “Lie, downright mad.”

“I’ve seen people go cannibalistic,” he corrected, smiling to himself fondly before letting out a scoff. “They starved us for days and expected us to put on a show. The place looked like a prison built after a renovation. Steel poles connected to pieces of cement littered against the wall with rubble making us sneeze and cutting into our soles.”

He shook his head, and Mark could imagine him taking a swig of beer if he ever had one. “You know what we learned from that? That even though they treated us like absolute crap, they didn’t want to kill us off for nothing. We’re here for a reason, a reason they expect us to fulfill.”

Heh stood abruptly, gesturing to his wear. “This. They wanted to see us perform like a circus. You know what I did as I learned aerial dancing from scratch?”

Mark shook his head, bewildered at the turn of events.

“I let them blindfold me and became a punching bag to distress. I had given up, like you are trying to do now. I had hoped they’d shoot me like they shot many others, or killed me once they got tired of me. But they didn’t. You know why?”

He kept quiet, waiting for the answer. 

“Because even though they kicked me and punched me, I never cried out. Never. As weak as I tried to portray myself, I made it clear I wouldn’t go out surrendering to them. And they liked that. They liked the fire that burned inside me, engulfed me whole and made me who I am now.”

When he looked down at Mark, his eyes were penetrating. 

“There’s much more to live for, even in this hellhole. Especially when it’s your enemies that pass by in front of your eyes. There’s no use putting out a fire when it can spread, Mark. Do what you want, but that fire in me won’t be extinguished anytime soon.”

-

“You were the one who found the corpse, not your friend,”

Mark tutted, smiling as he tapped his fan against the man’s shoulder. “Wrong again, love. There is no use of a boy like me to lie of discovering corpse when there is no pride in it. Did I mention that he fainted on me the moment I decided to brush away the burned skin and take a look at the face? In the face of death, no one is high and mighty, let it be the corpse or the one discovering it.”

“Then if that’s the case, who is the winner then?” someone asked curiously. 

“The one who kills is the one with satisfaction. Discovered or not, that person had done a crime others are too cowardly to do,” Mark stated and an appreciative rumble spread through the group. Mark had no doubt that it had struck a prideful chord in them, considering they were gang members. “There is no need to bow before the angel of death. There are much more things you can fear than death itself?”

He had their attention again, and they waited like humbled dogs for his next words.

“Fear betrayal, fear relationships that may be cut down upon the smallest mishaps. From that fear, keep that trust to yourself and share it with no one. Failed plans may hurt you, but to have them fail because of someone your own yearn for accomplice is worse.”

“Then do you not trust anyone?”

Mark leaned forward, keeping his movements controlled and cat-like. “I trust myself and myself only. There is no friendship in a world of the darkest hearts. In the end, there will be a winner, and kindness won’t bring you far.”

His session had gone better over the course of the few days. Mark knew, deep inside, that he was running out of time. He had tried to collect some information from the others, even came closest to try and strike up some sort of convo with Jisung. The kid really didn’t talk. Still, he manages to learn a few things about them over the course of a few hours of talk.

For instance, Renjun had performed the trick for every event that followed him through high school. It was a trick he didn’t share, which kind of made Mark even more curious. There was Jeno who was allergic to dust and had mastered the act of sleeping with his eyes open. He strayed off any topic regarding Jaemin, and didn’t remember much about his past. Jeno didn't liek talking about Jaemin but Jaemin was all the more happy to rant about Jeno.

Maybe it was one sided pining, or the partner acts had gone to his head.

Chenle had run away from home before he could be forced into pre-university early on. Smart, soundless and had an affinity for electronics. When Mark asked if he ever tried to hack into security, he had laughed it off because that’s absolutely ridiculous coming from you. I might end up setting on the trapdoors hidden under the floor.

Whatever that meant. 

“Have you ever wondered how it would be if we got out of here?” Mark wondered aloud, observing Jaemin’s reaction from the corner of his eye. He was quite the actor, not even slightly wavering in the way he held himself at the blunt statement. 

“That’s ridiculous, and you know it! To think we’d ever be able to escape? Hell, I think getting our souls detached would be way better than ever stepping out of this place.”

Mark looked at him questioningly. “You think we won’t be able to return to our previous lives if we made it out?”

“Definitely not,” the younger boy giggled, sighing with a fond expression on his face. “At least, not you. The rest of us are fucked up as hell. You can expect us to be placed in juvi the moment they test us for drugs. Withdrawal is a pain in the ass, you know? I used to skip the drugs after taking them thrice a week. It was horrible, I tell ya.”

Mark didn’t really know what to say to that. He had undoubtedly confirmed what Johnny had said, and thus strengthened Mark’s resolve that he should leave them behind when he had the chance. The world outside wouldn’t accept them, with their drugged systems and terrible mental states. He, on the other hand, had a good fighting chance.

“Who were you before you ended up here?” Mark asked. “Surely, you came from somewhere.”

Jaemin’s face darkened at the question, his brows furrowed. He turned his head and let out a retching cough before turning to look at Mar again. “They…kind of screwed up the analytics with me. I think they had planned to take my brother Jaehyun instead, but they took the wrong child.”

“What do you mean they took the wrong child?” he questioned, suddenly intrigued by the youngsters past. “I thought they did in depth research about us before we were taken in.”

A smile stretched itself upon Jaemin’s face. “Well, I was a speed skater training for a national competition. I’d usually break into the building to practice my skills, since they’re security system sucks. My mother was super protective of me throughout the years of my life, and skating brought more colour and freedom to it.”

He shook his head, eyes on his palms that were rubbed against each other. “I was born with a genetic condition I inherited from my father’s side. It would make me sick in the end, and I’d go the way my father did. Bet this organisation didn’t think about that.”

His palms moved between his pressed thighs and Mark realized that Jaemin was probably feeling rather cold. Except, it wasn’t particularly chilly in the place either. 

“Jeno cares a lot for me, and I always asked him to do me a favour and help me out. Of course, he’ll do it eventually but for now he always tries to avoid the topic. I don’t blame him for it. It would be a difficult job in the end.”

“Is that why he looks upset when I try to talk to him about you?” Mark questioned, nodding when Jaemin gave an affirmative hum. “These days, the lines between this reality and the reality outside blurs. I keep forgetting that they’re not the same, that there is actually someone out there trying to find me, trying to find us.”

“What makes you think that the world outside is even close to a hellhole as this place?” Jaemin asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows. 

“Because there’s so much to this organisation than just us entertaining them.” Mark side eyes Jaemin. “Like child trafficking for instance. We couldn’t fight back when they kidnapped us. How many hundred children are they doing the same thing to and shipping off to some other country?”

He watched Jaemin’s reaction, trying to make sense of it. However, the statement didn’t seem to strike a chord within him. Instead, the latter let out a low chuckle and patted Mark on the back before standing up. “Well, Mark, we can’t solve every problem in the world, can we? Just...remember who the real enemy is here.”

With that, he left, leaving Mark to his own thoughts and plans.

-

Time was running out to fast for his liking.

As much as Mark hated it, he had to move faster than ever. For some reason, his effort to get them to pity him enough to tell him about their escape plans were fruitless. In fact, it almost seemed as if they were intent on making sure he didn’t know anything.

It was either that or Johnny had lied and given him false hope.

The second one seemed more likely. Haechan was still as carefree as ever, most of the time mocking Mark for being so serious even when they were on break, and teasing the low voice he used when he started to tell his stories. Something told Mark it was a running joke between the others, to whisper his poetic lines between themselves and giggle.

It made his blood boil, and Mark could feel himself losing a grip on his sanity.

He hadn’t even been there for a month, unlike the others. But the longer he stood true to his organised thought patterns and stressed himself with the plan, the more he could feel the dark tendrils of madness slip into his mind. It was as if his persona as Pandora was trying to overwhelm his real persona. 

“You know, it would be way easier of you just stopped thinking so much of the world outside.” Renjun tutted, dragging Mark to his room to bandage him up. Someone had tried to make a move on him, to threaten him with a knife. It had been a spur of moment with the coldness of a blade pressing against his cheek and a gunshot somewhere.

His face was splattered with someone’s blood. 

Renjun sat Mark down abruptly before calling out something in Mandarin to whoever it was. Mark couldn’t focus, not with blood caking his eyelashes and making him feel so vile and disgusting. The knife had missed but cut into his leg, a gash splitting his pants open. The first few seconds was him keeping his real persona down and forcing a calm façade as he gazed down at the dead body by his feet.

But he had been terrified.

There was the sound of crumpling paper as Renjun slid back into view. As usual, he wore the paper bag over his head to hide his face. Mark wasn’t sure if that was to enforce his masked man role or to hide the burn on his face. Either way, Mark pitied him.

“You look a step away from becoming as mad as Hyuck.” He continued, gesturing to Mark’s side. When Mark turned, he jumped back from shock at the sight of Chenle and Jisung sitting right beside him. When had they even gotten there? He watched as Chenle passed over the medical supplies and sent him a wink.

Mark hissed as the alcohol swab was swiped against his wound. Renjun didn’t seem bothered by his discomfort. Perhaps he had gotten too used to those kinds of situations. His mind flitted back to Jeno’s scars and Haechan’s constellation. 

“Why do they act like that to us?” he wondered aloud, and Jisung gave him a worried look. “Like, we’re just here to entertain. Why do they try to lash out?”

Renjun tapped his temple with a slim finger (at least what Mark hoped was his temple). “It’s in here. They’re addicted to our mind games like drugs, trying to make us into broken dolls. But because we have so much power over them, they’re the ones slowly getting broken.”

“Like a ticking time bomb!” Chenle put in, clicking his tongue like a countdown clock. “They just get so tangled that they eventually explode. It never ends well for them, but they’ll do their job before they get killed.”

Renjun nodded, pulling his hands under the paper bag to run it over his face. Jisung, realizing this, slipped from his spot and gently circled his arms around the older boy. It wasn’t just physically. Jisung had gone mute simply because he couldn’t bear the trauma that came with the job. Not everyone was gifted with words.

“They did worse before, and they’ll do worse in the future,” Renjun said as he wrapped the bandage around Mark’s leg. “You may not see it, Mark, but we don’t simply surrender to their antics. We fight back, too. If we didn’t none of us would still be alive now.”

The words stirred something dark and unnerving in Mark’s heart. 

-

Many strange things happened the longer he was stranded in the dark pit of entertainment. Things that stuck in his mind and burrowed into his thoughts during the eleventh hour. 

He hadn’t expected this.

He hadn’t expected to enter the dressing room to find Jeno pointing his gun right at Jaemin, the younger of the two staring at the latter with an intense gaze that held no bitterness. He did not beg, and he did not plead for his life. Mark was a split second away from running forward to tackle Jeno to the ground when the shot rang out loud and clear.

Mark flinched hard, stumbling back at the sound and cupping his ears with his hands. He managed to see Jeno fall to his backside from the recoil. He managed to see the gun fall from his hands.

He managed to see Jaemin collapse to the ground, a large pit carving itself in his chest and forcing him back against the sofa which was quickly painted with scarlet as the life seeped out of his eyes, a wide endearing carved on his lips as he let out the last breaths he could manage through his mangled lungs.

And he didn’t move after that.

“MARK GET UP!” a familiar voice screamed and hands were pulling his own away from his ears and dragging him backwards out the door. “FOCUS GODDAMMIT!”

Mark blinked the black spots out of his eyes to find Haechan looking him fiercely, a hand raised to slap some sense to him which he realized, one again, a split second too late. The contact against is cheek made his brain tremble in his head, the throbbing that pulsated from his cheek bringing him back to reality.

“J-Jeno…h-he…”

I know! But we have to run you absolute fool!” Haechan yelled and Mark realized that the others were with him. Before he could question anything, they took off sprinting into the maze-like network of the organisation. Mark had never been brave enough to try and navigate through in case he got stuck and couldn’t make his way out.

But Chenle and Jisung were leading, the boy whose presence was faint behind his hyungs and the one who could disappear and reappear like a ghost. With a stride matched with high confidence, they led all of them through the darkest paths and curves, making mark’s head turn.

“They spent the last few months memorizing the pathways and figuring out the easiest routes,” Haechan panted beside him when they finally came to a stop in front of a vent. Renjun quickly took charge, slipping a multipurpose tool to unscrew the cover. Behind him, Jisung slipped out a gun and pointed it towards the single path they came from, eyes squinting through the darkness.

Mark could only gap in shock.

“Underestimated us, newbie?” Haechan asked, flipping a knife between his fingers. “I told you, didn’t I? We’ll keep burning.”

There was a padding of feet and Jisung lowered his gun as Jeno slipped into view, running full speed towards them. He had discarded his performance wear and was wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top. There was blood in his hair and on his shirt, even more splattered on the right side of his face. 

Tear tracks created white lines through the dried blood, but Mark didn’t care. His fist moved first to strike Jeno in the face and the younger didn’t even dodge, bracing himself for the impact. However, a firm hand grabbed his wrist, holding him still.

Mark looked at Donghyuck incredulously. “He KILLED Jaemin, Haechan!”

“It was a merciful kill,” there was no malice in his voice, only deep mourning. “He wouldn’t live if he even managed to get out. We needed a distraction big enough to force the security to one side of the building, and he offered to be it. He…he wanted it.”

A loud clang interrupted his retort, the steel cover falling to the ground. Even through the paper bag, Renjun seemed to look at him with a judging look. “Suck it up, newbie. Weren’t you planning to do the same with all of us if circumstances called for it?”

With those words, he crawled through the vent followed by the others. Mark stood frozen, not comprehending, not understanding how it had come to this. To be played at a game he had been trying so hard to complete. He didn’t realize everyone except Haechan had gone through until Haechan poked the edge of his knife into his waist, making him yelp.

“Get in, coward. You try anything funny and this will be up your arse.”

-

They crawled out to a wide room, too open for Mark’s liking.

It was wide one side with a big screen and panels. There was an opening at the far right of the room that had no door. That meant people could run in any given minute. Jisung and Jeno made their way to both sides of that opening, guns at the ready.

Come to think of it, how did they get their hands on the weapons anyway?

“I’m opening CCTV’s 173 to 182” Renjun called and pressed a button. The screen flickered to show multiple small perspectives from all over the base. Haechan slid next to him, his eyes fixated on the computers as his fingers moved like lightning to press the keys. “You found it, Hyuck?”

“Yeah, camera 510”

A box expanded itself in the middle of the screen, showing a camera that was fixated at a place that was an open railway, a battered train on the tracks. The train didn’t seem like a modern one, kind of like the ones meant to bring in big loads.

Big loads…

“Confirm the date and time.” Haechan ordered.

“March 5, 7 o’clock. Ten minutes before departure to…” Renjun checked the computer and smirked. “South Korea. It’s the right train.”

Chenle was busy with a box fixated at the end of the room, as tall as he way. In his hand was a wrench and a wire cutter, and he seemed to be switching around something, meddling with the wires in a way that Mark didn’t understand.

“Still confused, Mark?” Haechan laughed, pressing a key with a satisfying click before nodding towards Chenle. “He’s a prodigy at that stuff, if you didn’t realize from the way he kept disappearing. He programmed the old traps set in the base to work through voice order. That’s what makes him unfindable.”

Mark blinked in surprise. His gaze moved to Renjun who was doing something to the computer. Once in a while, he reached into the paper bag to wipe his sweat.

“Renjun and I were together in a primary school gifted programme for programming and coding. Easy enough to implant a virus, easier when you carry it wherever you go.” 

He pointed at his necklace which was now plugged into the computer. 

Haechan gave him a withering look. “Although we don’t know exactly if you did meet up with one of the gang members, you let off too many clues. Knowing about the child trafficking system, trying to push us into telling you stuff. Still, your whole storytelling thing managed to pull eyes away from us and we managed to finish up the end of our plans. I can’t say I’m happy with you, though.”

“Open fire in the doorway,” Renjun called and Jeno nodded, signalling for Jisung to prepare. Mark’s eyes widened as he heard the first of the steps coming straight for the room they were in.

“Are the coming?”

Chenle smirked from where he was, his hand on a lever. “Of course they’re coming. They think Jeno is here, which he is. They don’t know of our involvement though, so they’ll probably send fewer people.”

“Lele, the doors?”

“Automatically will begin to shut down”

“Right, we need more time to install the virus and corrupt the data.” Haechan nodded, looking over at Mark. Just as made eye contact, his attention shifted as the wall behind them protruded in a large rectangle before splitting to reveal a pathway. From where Mark stood, he was that the walls seemed to have gear-like contraptions that led to the very end around 100 metres away. “Okay, Mark. You better listen to me carefully.”

He pointed to the far end of the pathway. “At the end, there’s a wheel that will turn to close the doors. The moment Chenle pulls the lever, every single door in this God forsaken place will close simultaneously and become jammed, giving us enough time.”

“Closing in, in ten seconds!” Renjun called, pulling out his own knife and readying himself for the gang members who would enter the control room. His hands typed frantically on the keyboard. “Hurry!”

“The moment Chenle pulls the lever, I need you to sprint inside and slow down the wheel as much as possible until we all get through. We just need to hold them off long enough so they don’t cancel the installation. Buy us enough time. Can you do that?”

“Hyung!” Chenle called frantically. 

Mark nodded, looking at the path and eyeing the blue wheel at the end. He had to slow it down, not stop it. He couldn’t let any of the gang members through, especially if they were armed with guns. Haechan nodded at Chenle and the younger boy yanked the lever down with as must strength as he could –

And Mark ran.

He ran faster than ever even when he heard the first round of bullets go off. His eyes were on the wheel, situated farther than he had expected. He could feel the strain on his legs as he grabbed the wheel, forcing himself to an abrupt stop. The wheel was moving to the right at a rapid pace, and Mark pushed it left, groaning at how heavy it was.

Still, he couldn’t bring the wheel to a total stop, nothing to grip onto for leverage and fully dependant on his arm strength.

But he could still see the others on the other side fending of the gang members.

Jeno and Jisung were firing widely, grabbing new gun and magazine from the bodies that piled up at the entrance. Those who managed to make it through were intercepted by Haechan who moved like a wind spirit, jumping onto their shoulder and flipping them over like the spies from movies Mark had seen.

Renjun had pulled off his paper bag, his eyes wild as he ducked under wild slashed as used a dead body as a shield from harm. The burn that stretched from his left ear to his nose and chin made him look all the more beastly, desperation fuelling his moves. Chenle was focusing on the machine box, springing out traps and tripping those who tried to make a grab for him. In his hand was a taser he had found in a cabinet which he used mercilessly, gazing down at the convulsing bodies at his feet.

“Help him out!” Jeno screamed once he saw how fast the door was closing. Chenle, who was nearest, didn’t hesitate to make a run towards Mark, his forehead glistening with sweat as he held onto the wheel with Mark, letting out high pitched shriek as he pulled as hard as he could the other way. Not long after, Jisung came running and held onto the middle, trying to stop it from moving at all.

Still, the doors were too heavy for them to stop completely.

With a jerk of his head, Haechan ordered Renjun to run through. They had less than a meter, but the fight was almost over. Just a little more. Haechan let out a bellow of rage as a knife slashed at his arm, and he jabbed his elbow into the man’s face, burying his knife deep within the man’s throat. He had been cut almost all over his body, and a shit wound made his leg bleed scarlet.

“Hyuck! We need to go now!” Jeno yelled, looking over his shoulder for a split second. “Make a run for it!”

Smaller, the gap was getting smaller.

“A little bit more!” Renjun cried as he joined the group, and the gap almost stopped moving completely. Mark felt his muscles weaken, but there wasn’t much choice for him then. He needed to keep it open until they came in. “JENO! HYUCK!”

“DAMMIT!” Jeno screamed and grabbed Haechan from behind, pushing his head down as they made a sprint for the door. Bullet flew their way at a startling pace, and almost in slow motion, Haechan managed to squeeze through followed by Jeno.

“LET GO!” Mark roared and they pulled away, the doors slamming shut just as the first round of bullets made their way through. Someone jumped on his back, forcing him down as the bullets passed overhead and shot into the cemented wall. 

He coughed harshly, pulling himself up as the others did so as well. Jeno and Haechan were stumbling towards them, their clothes stained red. Mark was quick to grab Haechan while the others took Jeno. Simultaneously, they looked at the end of the room which had a bright like coming from the corner. 

Freedom. Freedom was so near.

“Hurry, the train should be leaving at any second!” Haechan ordered and they ran (limped/stumbled) their way to the light, desperately holding onto each other. Every step made their hearts race, the endgame of the months of planning while remaining docile towards the organisation. 

The moment they turned the corner, they saw it. The yellow and brown train that looked almost abandoned when they came near. The sky was dark, signalling night time, and they seemed to be in the middle of a forest. It was evident how the police weren’t able to locate the train.

“Oh God…Oh my God,” Jeno coughed harshly as the train lamp at the end flashed. “Run!”

Mark held Haechan tight, dragging the tired teen along as they boarded the closest cabin they saw. Jisung forced the door open and hopped inside, pulling them in as the train began to move. Jeno and Haechan came first just as the train started picking up speed.

Jisung desperately grabbed onto Chenle as the he ran after the cabin, pulling him inside when Renjun pushed his back. The train was going faster and Renjun outstretched his arm, shocked when Mark grabbed his waist and threw him forward so Chenle and Jisung could catch him.

He was running, panting as he forced his legs forward. The cut on his leg was swarng with pain, but freedom gave his mind clarity. With a desperate leap, he caught Jisung’s hand and was pulled inside with such force that he tumbled into the cabin, the youngest boy falling back onto his back, spread eagled and heaving in breaths.

The first thing Mark realized was that it was hot. Not weather hot, but cramped hot. The second thing he realized was how all of them were looking at something to his right. Mark rolled over, pushing himself to his knees as he followed their line of view.

The cabin was filled with children and teens their age, their mouths and wrists taped together. All of them had their eyes on the newcomers, wide and terrified. They had been cramped together in dozens, all of them sweaty and pale, dirty as if they had been freshly kidnapped.

Thud

Haechan collapsed to the floor, his knees giving out. The wooden boards under them were quickly stained dark and Mark ripped the bottom of his shirt, quickly identifying the cuts and bandaging them. Haechan was breathing shallowly, his eyes hooded and fatigued.

“I’ll get you free,” Renjun was saying, and he heard the sound of a blade slicing through tape. “Don’t try and jump out. It might kill you.”

There was the sound of distant sobbing, no doubt Jeno who was finally given the time (but not privacy) to mourn the death of his other half. Sure, it was a kill of mercy, but that still meant he had killed his best friend of all time. When Mark looked at Haechan’s face, he could see the boy looking over at the broken teen with a sad gaze.

“We made it out,” he whispered, coughing dryly to the side. “We placed the tracker in the system, corrupted the data and made it out. It’s been months…”

Months. For Mark, it had been a week. Haechan had been stranded in that godforsaken place for months. There was no look of madness and insanity in his eyes, only one of mourning and weariness. He had been fooled completely, and for the better. Even Johnny, who no doubt would expect more than just one body, had been fooled by him.

They had kidnapped the wrong children, and with that came their downfall.

“What happens after this?” Mark asked, knotting the last cloth and wincing at the hiss Haechan gave out. “What happens when we arrive at the place?”

Haechan was silent, and Mark was worried he had fainted. The only thing that filled in the dreadful emptiness was the screech of the rails, Jeno’s crying, Chenle’s hushed whispers and the sound of tape being cut by a blade. It might have been selfish of him, but Mark needed an answer. He needed to know that there was something worth escaping for.

“I…I don’t know,” he finally admitted, and Mark slumped backwards. “We sent the signal, and now it’s up to authorities to figure out how they can help us. We’ve done our part…and we can only hope they do theirs.”

And that was it, the final conclusion. A hero’s story doesn’t always end with them getting the final satisfactory blow. They were children, teens who needed help and they could only pray that it would come their way. In front of the eyes of dozens, Mark let himself shed the first few tears of relief.

Even though it wasn’t certain, he was going home.

They were going to make it home.