^credits to Nonconman for the amazing art

Sorry for the long wait. <33

The new covers were made by Bangtanlover95 , aren't they just gorgeous?

~

Time moves slowly as his feet slope against the cracked paint of the stairs, arms bent at his torso. He feels the swivelling eyes that latch to his charcoal, printed back. Feel those boring eyes that tear at his flesh, fingers kissing the crevices of his bare bones.

"Oi!"

The voice is gruff and loud, splitting the green stalks and slathering at his ears as the hair on his neck raise with apprehension.

"What do you think you're doing?"the man grunts, the safe guard of his AK-47 unlocked whipping at his skin.

His lungs scream in his chest as he propels himself forward in a desperation, legs aching with the sudden boost of speed.

Don't look back. He thinks, nibbling on his bottom lip as he fumbles with the doorknob, fingers slathered in clammy sweat and rid of their usual feeling.

Bang!

The world around him seems to halt, the mahogany door before him swinging open after a rather abrasive tug of desperation. He feels himself lumbering into the house, thighs ablaze with fire, eventually succumbing to the intense curiousity in his mind and twisting his body to face the endless fields.

The impact of the thick metal has him crumbling to the floorboards, pain striking at his hunched shoulders as he elicits a strangled cry of distress, stumbling backwards and dropping with a loud thrash of limbs.

Fire. It curls it's lips at his unblemished skin, tapestry white teeth sinking into the honey flesh, ribbons of velvet spilling against the rich wood. His ears ring, deaf to the sudden uproar around him as men turn to asses the unordered gun shot.

Move. Now.

It hurts. Everything hurts. Regardless of the fact that only his shoulder had been shot, his entire body felt as if someone had stabbed him repeatedly, choosing to dig their knife especially hard at the juncture of his shoulder blade.

Through the blurred haze of his vision, his eyes pinpoint on the man who had delivered the fatal shot, his eyebrows pulled together in dry mockery and barrel raised to deliver further shots.

His body pains, every movement striking jolts of electricity that sizzles at his veins, hissing at his skin. Even so, his mind yearns for survival, brain functioning in fabricated automation, toes fumbling at the spine of the door as he stretches his legs to its fullest extent.

Millimetres. Just a few more shoves and the door would be fully closed, poorly restricting the upcoming bullets that pierce the wooden structure of the house.

There's a loud hiss as yet another bullet is released from its hollow enclosure, this time stopping simply inches away from his left ear, succumbed in the thick wood of the doorframe.

The next bullet fires again, whizzing and crumbling through the air as the blond elicits a gurgled whimper of sickening defeat, legs pulling back to gift the wood with one final kick.

The metal seems to move in dilatory time, lurching through space with daunting resolution. His mind seems to halt, bland and blurred of physical concession. There's a faint realisation of the fatal blow inching closer and close towards him, tingling at his closed eyes.

With baited breath, he watches, teeth pressed tightly over his cherry lips as the metallic taste seeps at his tongue.

Move, his mind screams, slashing at his hips to roll over in the last flee of survival, move!

Narrowly dodging the closing of the wooden door, the bullet exhales darkly, implanting itself in its final destination.

"Argh!"

His vision seems to deteriorate, slipping and sliding as he struggles to come terms with the blinding, hot pain that tears at his muscles.

Roar after roar, the lion feasts at his leg, ripping and shredding at the layers of skin and muscle as he screams in agony. It's unlike any fire he had experience. Worse than the shot in the stomach, or the shoulder, his leg aches with laceration.

Crimsons streamers flay upon his clothes, drenching both himself and the floor beneath him to the point that he had no general idea of which was which.

Whimpering, Taehyung blinks at his tears as he clenches his fists, nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm. Past the ringing of his ears and thrumming of his heartbeat, there's an obvious sound of uproar in the surrounding men, many evidently curious as to why the ring of shots had been fired. Shots unsupervised by the raven leader.

Baekhyun.

His whole point and basic idea to enter the shabby house was to spare the man from the possible death he was to face. It would be pathetic to halt the entire mission for a few bullet shots. Surely, Jeongguk had experienced much worse and yet managed to soldier on. This would've been a stroll in the park for him, so why not himself?

Gurnting, he finds himself inhaling shakily, tan fingers curling to dab gently at the undersides of his eyes. He would take this moment as an opportunity to prove many that he wasn't a puny, small brute who depended on others for survival.

Jieun.

The name suddenly flashes over his blurred vision, blinding white as his heart clenches painfully. Maybe, maybe if he was successful with this mission, Bangtan would think of him highly. Would think of him worthy enough to be their leader's partner than simply a pretty doll at his side. Would think of him better than this previous girl who he suspected had the raven male's heart.

Nodding firmly, he prints the thought to the front of his inner mind, the anguish of dismal thoughts of Jeongguk in another person's arm an effective diversion to the blinding pain in both his shoulder and leg.

He can't walk that's for sure. His leg wouldn't get him very far if he tried to. So what remained was to simply crawl to the destination he strived to reach.

Planting his elbow roughly against the chipped wood, Taehyung curses at the spark of torture that ignites at his shoulder at the movement.

"C'mon."the blond curses, head swinging back and forth in a final action of desperation to rid the white dots that spot his vision, "Move!"

It's a torturous journey, prolonged by the unbearable pain that blooms over his body. Drag after drag, he heaves his battered frame over the crimson floorboards, ear ringing and tinted with distant calls of confusion.

It seems like hours when he finally arrives at the base of the flight of stairs, skin unrecognisable in the layers of striking red, palms bleeding and torn from minutes of hopeless scratching at the floorboards.

His vision is useless, blotted in speckles of grey and dwarves of white. The only way to navigate himself around the shabby house was now by the sense of touch, his fingers scabby and ripped as they feel at the grooves and crevices of the floor.

It's when he's thumbing the side of the stairs does he feel the peculiar drop in the carving of chipped wood. The pads of his fingertips are dotted in multiple of splinters, almost numb to the pain that shoots at its nerves, yet the sudden adrenaline generating from his kidney somehow rids any thought of stinging hurt at his skin.

Lower and lower does his fingers slip, running over the rigged wood until they suddenly fall into a carved hollow opening. His heart thrums loudly in his ears, fingers suddenly thrashing in the confined space of the cut, nails digging wildly at its sides as he heaved himself forward.

Feeling around the opening, the blond notices the jagged crack in the wood, a few centimetres from the cut. His fingers dig into the said line, thumb hitched at the opening, a strangled grunt falls past his bleeding lips as he tugs the wood towards him.

It's excruciating, the movement including his shoulder that shrieks in protest, a fresh onslaught of tears building at his eyes as he whimpers profusely. 

"Gukkie..." he finds himself bawling out, desperate for the warmth of security the elder gave off, "Gukkie, p-please."

There's no defiant plea as to what he wants the raven haired male to do. Even so, Taehyung found himself uncaring as to what the male would do, it didn't matter did it? All that did, was that the he was in the man's arms, safe and loved.

But no, it wouldn't end that way. No, he had two lives dependant on his survival. Two lives that he was suspiciously certain to be cramped in the newly found carve in the wood.

The very second he opens the flap of wood, a strong gust of dust spits at his bloodied cheeks, winding over his wrists and chest before heaving itself into his mouth as he wheezes, coughing and spluttering. It's putrid, even without his eye-sight, the room smells of damp distress and aged wood.

Crawling into the small space, he permits his palms to feel over the chipped floor as he tilts his head form side to side, eager to catch on for any sound of human inhabitation. In the distance, he hears angry calls and raised voices. He's shocked to hear the lack of movement in the house or at least the sound of furious boots clambering towards him. It was a miracle that Jeongguk had failed to act as soon as possible, though the blond murmurs thankfulness.

Taehyung isn't sure how long he's been mindlessly crawling for - if he was even moving in the first place - when he hears the tiniest rustle of movement to his left. Tensing, he swings his head wildly to the source of audio, body coming to a stuttering halt.

"Baekhyun hyung?"he croaks, grunting at the sudden mouthful of dust.

There's no answer, exactly as the blond had predicted though the fact bothers him nonetheless. Through the hoarseness of his voice, it would be a fate for the men to recognise him.

Groaning, he pivots his body in the direction he had the sound from, crawling helplessly in a final attempt to locate the couple.

"It's Taehyung."he utters throatily, gritting his teeth at the sudden spark of pain that travels up his thigh, "I won't hurt you, I promise."

He can practically smell the hesitation and doubt in the air, heavy and forlorn on his shoulder as he clenches his eyes shut, exhaling shakily.

"I'm here to help, honestly."

Nothing. Again, there's no surprise for he was the partner of the man who had forced them into the position they currently were in.

By then any ounce of hope that had remained seemed to have trickled from his body, oozing across the blood stained floorboards. Maybe they weren't even here. Maybe he was simply talking to no one. Maybe this was all a mistake.

Maybe, this was how it would end. With him splayed over the musky floorboards of a hidden room, far from human civilisation with over fifty armed men after his blood.

"P-Please,"he sobs dryly, chest heaving in agony as his body shudders and collapses to the floor, "Please, it hurts."

He hears sudden commotion at his left, before clammy hands embrace his bloodied torso, tugging him into a sitting position, his name called out in blotched snippets.

"Taehyung!"someone shrieks in his ear, fingers gripping at his biceps as they shake him in attempt to drag him back to consciousness, "Taehyung!"

The blond can merely gurgle in response, head lolling to face the man who clutches him as if he were glass bound to shatter in mere seconds.

A mob of ginger hair kneels close by, fingers gripping his uninjured leg as he asses him through smudged eyeliner.

"Front door..."the blond murmurs inconclusively, eyelids fluttering shut, "...take me."

His chest is burning, ignited in raging fires and dotted with metallic weapons that tear theirselves into him, growling and howling. It's all too much, too much pain for the frail boy to experience.

"We need to get him to a doctor or something."Baekhyun hisses shrilly, breathing unsteady as he his gaze sweepers over the boy's bloody body, "He's loosing too much blood."

"No!"his midnight hair partner snaps, doubt lathering his vowels, "They'll kill us the very second we're out in the open!"

A sudden fire seems to light behind the elder's eyes, shoulder's pushed back as he tilts his chin upwards to cast an impending glare at his boyfriend.

"Let them! This boy is risking his life for ours, the least we can do is it return the favour!"

Maybe it is the wrath that lines the man's frame, hissing in red coal and licking at the air, or the grave formality that dawns upon their skin that evokes the vitiated nod from the indecisive male.

"Alright."Chanyeol breathes out, trepidation evident in his tone, "Our date with the devil himself awaits."

&&&

The three males find themselves hobbling over crimson painted floorboards, bodies pressed close to another as their apprehension mounts with every step. The youngest stands feebly between the two, strong hands gripping his waist to prevent him falling face-first to the floor. Both his shoulder and leg had been hastily wrapped in torn cloth, tight against his wounds to hopefully prevent colossal bleeding.

It's almost impossible to infringe the desperation of bidding his eyes an unhinged close, his vision spotted with peculiar spots and shapes that he curiously yearns to touch. Baekhyun, who had been the first to notice the alarming drop to the boy's consciousness, had taken it upon himself to keep him talking animatedly in a feeble attempt to keep him awake. It had had been especially difficulty to withdraw themselves from the musky companion of the secluded room, Taehyung protesting softly at the occasional harshness of tugs at his limbs.

Even so, the group managed to pull each and everyone one of them to the temporary safety of the shabby house, arms linked and bodies clammy.

"It's not of Jeongguk to not barge in here the very moment he had his men organised."the eldest huffs, shifting his arm slightly.

"No."Chanyeol murmurs, lips pursed, "It isn't."

It's deadly silent, the only sound that reached their ears being the slow whispers of the murmuring wind. It was almost as if no men stood behind the closed walls of their surroundings, barricading them within the selected area. Men who obtained weapons that would swipe their lives from Earth faster than they could shout for help.

"It's for you. He knows you're in here, with us. He won't do anything till you face him yourself, respect or pride I'm not sure."the dark haired male concludes.

"Respect?"Baekhyun snorts, his words uttered at the very second the blond mumbles an incredulous, "pride?"

Though the male rolls his eyes in mild irritation, the corners of his lips quirk in mirth, "Well I'm guessing he's either too egoistic to give you a hand considering you practically went against his orders and forgiving you on the spot would give the impression that he's getting soft and weak. Or, it's an act of permission to get yourself together after a shot."

Both males don't reply, opting to mull over their own thoughts as the dismal silence crushes at their shoulders.

"The very second we get out there."Taehyung whispers, "It's all going to actually start...this, this was nothing wasn't it?"

Beside him Baekhyun smiles feebly, eyes far from his own, head bowing to offer a trembling nod, "Mhm, this was just the beginning."

~

I tried to draw today...

Yeah, didn't go too well. :/ Comment if you want to see my attempt to draw Tae lmao.