⚠️warning⚠️
- graphic depictions of violence, gore.

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"You're one tough bastard," Renjun sighed tiredly as he sat in an old, rickety chair across from Jaemin, who was strapped to one of a similar stature at his wrists and ankles. "It's been a week, Nana. How're you still holding in there?"

The younger had utterly lifeless eyes as he plastered a forced smirk to his face and pretended that the cuts and bruises weren't causing him immense pain. "What can I say, Ren? I'm just too strong."

The older wasn't hugely amused by his carefree and irritatingly blasé attitude. It made life so much harder when his screams were far and few between. But he would admit; he missed this. The bickering, the memories. He hadn't realised how deprived of his past he'd been until he came face to face with it.

Annoyingly enough, attached to Jaemin seemed to be Mark's spirit (or so Renjun seemed to imagine). The ex-leader just wandered about the tiny, secret room, staying close to his murderer like he had no choice. The only reason the outlaw was still conscious was because the older was terrified Mark would disappear. If he's connected to Jaemin, then Nana's the only link I have left to him...

"C'mon, can't you just kill me already?" The blonde groaned, spitting out a dribble of blood across the floor. "Aren't you sick of being a cat?"

"Not when you're my mouse," he smiled at the concept. "Mark always took your side. I was so sick of it."

"He only did that because I had no one else," Jaemin rolled his eyes. "He knew that if he turned his back on me for even a second, I'd disappear...."

"You're so selfish."

"And you're an asshole. So be a bad person and shoot me in the head! Do it!"

"A shot to the head would be too kind," Renjun jumped up out of his seat, growing agitated and infuriated. He picked up his scissors off the ledge of a bricked up window and swung them around his index finger. "Let's continue, yeah? Since you seem to have recovered enough to sass me."

The younger glared at him with nothing else to say. He envisioned how upset and alone Donghyuck must've felt right now, what with both himself and the little demon missing. He knew that if he ever got out of this alive, which seemed highly unlikely, he'd get a massive punch in the face for this.

Renjun hovered in front of him for a small minute, his eyes cast to the back of the room behind his victim. It seemed as though he was mesmerised, and Jaemin couldn't turn around to see what by. This happened every two hours or so....the older would just freeze up. "Are you high?" The blonde questioned quite seriously.

"Hm?" Renjun tilted his head in a daze, suddenly computing with what the other said and sporting a scowl. "Ugh, no I'm not high! I never take drugs, and you know that!"

"Whatever you say," Jaemin wriggled his eyebrows, draining himself of his remaining cockiness before the smaller proceeded to sit on his lap, facing him. Their faces were pretty close, but neither cared about that.

"Let's see," the brunette muttered to himself as he tore Jaemin's shirt open, revealing his beautifully toned chest. The younger shivered against the chill that tickled his exposed skin, yet remained silent. "Perfectly unmarked," Renjun smiled maliciously. He brought one of the blades of his scissors towards the pale chest, slowly pressing the blunt edge against it until blood sprouted painfully.

Jaemin pursed his lips and gritted his teeth, looking away and holding back the urge to hiss. It was sore as hell, no denying it. But showing Renjun his weakness would've been even worse. The older needed to see such things though, and continued to drag the weapon along the area, splitting the tissue and leaving a gash.

"You know," he murmured as he worked, "You've taken everything important away from me, Jaem. My Mark. My Donghyuck. My mafia. You're the only fucker in existence who could do this to me, too. So I need you gone, y'know? I'm fed up of feeling this way, of feeling pathetic. You're the last of my worries I need to eliminate."

Jaemin shifted under his waist uncomfortably, sighing and throwing his head back to whine. "Well I thought you were dead all this time. Can't say I'm having the time of my life either."

"So annoying," the older scoffed, taking the scissors back and shoving them without mercy straight into the blonde's shoulder.

"Shit, Renjun! Damn it!"

"Cry me a river, build yourself a fucking bridge, and get over it!"

"Kill me!"

"Not yet!"

The taller elicited a prolonged scream of frustration before looking back at his childhood friend and poking his tongue out immaturely. "Mark's gone, Dickhead. Everything you do now will never reach him."

"I know that!" Renjun snipped, removing his scissors again and feeling overwhelmed with hurt and anger. He wanted this all to end, but it just wouldn't! He didn't think twice before hacking the ropes off of Jaemin's left hand, letting it free. The poor limb was too numb and sore to use anyway, so the younger couldn't even retaliate.

Bruises surrounded the wrist where the coarse material had bitten into the flesh, rubbing it raw and even drawing bloody scabs in some places. "These filthy hands touched what was mine, didn't they? Did you like it? Ruining Donghyuck that way while he was with me? Did he feel good to you?!"

"You're such a psycho!"

"How fucking rich coming from you!" He growled, holding the hand up with shaky fingers and recalling how they held the gun that killed his first lover, and how they roamed his second behind his back. "You won't need these," the male played with his fingers menacingly. "Not when you're dead."

He held up his old, rusted scissors once again, opening them and positioning them around the taller's pinky finger. "I wonder how well you'll be able to hold someone now. Y'know, without your finger?"

"Huang Renjun, don't you dare!"

"Oh but I do dare. I live for the moments you lose your composure, Darling, I really do." With that he squeezed down on the kitchen utensil and starting cutting into the skin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Jaemin screeched, jolting in the seat and knocking Renjun's balance to lean forward over him by accident. Their noses touched, and the smaller wore a shit-eating grin while the taller had sheer pain etched into his beautiful features. "Seriously! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Don't preach to me you little sinner," Renjun rolled his eyes. "We're both as bad as each other - partners in crime. And when you're gone, it'll only be me left." The scissors suddenly stopped sinking into the flesh, confusing the misguided boy slightly before he realised what the hold up was. "Hah. We've reached the bone, have we?"

"Oh my god!"

"Just. A. Bit...." A loud crunch resounded throughout the empty, silent space, the blood spraying up at the brunette when almost all arteries and present veins were severed. "Whoops...a smaller bone than I thought."

Jaemin had no voice left. He cringed and flinched as his head lulled to the side, desperate pants escaping his parted lips. He couldn't even bare to look at the damage done, since the finger was still barely connected, just...hanging.

"It's hurts, doesn't it?" Renjun feigned empathy as he pressed their foreheads together and forced eye contact. "I bet it does. Not even stitches will fix this." As he he started to chop the rest of it off, Jaemin squeezed his eyes shut and released a tiny, pitiful sob, angry at himself for even possessing such a sound. The older boldly connected their lips for an emotionless kiss before chuckling against his mouth when the first finger was off.
"I'll erase all of the happiness Donghyuck brought you. Replace it with nothing but nightmares."

The younger looked down finally at his missing pinky in Renjun's grasp and almost threw up at the sight of it. The uneven edge, the rest of the bone down the centre, the blood free-flowing down his hand. It was disgusting.

"Do what you want," he forced out, swallowing back his regret. "Hyuck was never yours, and you know what?"

"What?"

"He'll never be mine either. We're both as bad as each other, after all."

He huffed, "God, just get some sleep, Asshole. You'll need that beauty rest for when I move to your next fucking finger! I'll get to your tongue eventually!"

The blonde merely groaned when the older got off his lap, leaving him to wallow in self-pity. He may have felt like shit now, but he knew in the long run that he had won this battle.

Renjun was a broken doll that could never be fixed.

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