Changbin's world had become a swirling vortex of pain and darkness. Consciousness flickered like a dying flame, each moment a battle to stay present amidst the agony that consumed him. The room itself seemed to pulsate with evil, a prison designed to amplify his suffering.

As time lost its shape and the line between waking and unconsciousness blurred, Changbin clung to the shreds of hope that the others would be looking for him. His eyelids felt like boulders, they didn't want to open. Fatigue holding him back.

As Changbin hung on the precipice of consciousness, a distant sound reached his ears. Heavy footsteps approached the door, a hand opening it. He heard someone flick a switch, a small yellowy hue igniting the far left corner of the room. Even if the boy's eyes were open, the blue and purple bruises littering his face had swelled up so much that he had to strain his vision just to make out a silhouette.

He heard footsteps approaching him, the loud sound of shoes clacking against the concrete floor echoing around the enclosure. He sucked in a breath out of feared anticipation, presuming there was another bout of torture to come.

He couldn't let himself break completely, not when there were lives at stake. He prayed with every heavy sound of the person's feet edging closer to him.

He felt him bend down, leaning close into his face so Changbin could see. This must be the infamous Mr Crow.

He grinned, sinister, and pulled out a pocket knife, flipping it open. Changbin flinched when he saw the weapon glint in what little light coming from the open door. Before Changbin could have another thought, Crow started cutting away at his bonds.

A minute later and the ropes that had secured him to the chair lay discarded on the floor. Changbin irrationally took his chance and tried to stand up, his eyes set on the open door. He managed to get to his feet, yet his movements were sluggish and unstable. Even just standing up, he had to grasp onto the chair to steady himself.

Crow watched eagerly, his twisted grin growing wider with every pained step the boy took. He watched Changbin stumbled towards the door, a doomed hope flickering in his eyes. The boy could almost feel a smile tugging at his lips as he inched closer to the door. His hope, his prize—it was practically in his grasp. That is, until he felt a strong grasp from behind, on his neck, again. He felt himself aggressively yanked backward into the room and thrown against the wall. He yelled in pain as he collided with concrete. Black dots clouded his vision, teasingly. They were almost tempting at this point, unconsciousness would ease the pain. He could escape this hell for a while.

"Aren't you pretty?" Crow whispered, admiring the broken and bloodied boy leaning heavily against the wall.

"Sorry for crushing your dreams," Crow seethed, making the latter scowl.

Bruises bloomed on Changbin's skin like flowers of the valley, contrasting against his now ghastly pale skin. Blood caked to his body and dried between his knuckles and the corners of his mouth. It hurt so much that Changbin couldn't feel anymore—numb from the agonizing pain and the heinous amounts of blood he'd lost.

He shook his head lightly.

"Ah," Crow said, taking the boy's chin in his hand. He inspected the wounds, a smile adorning his crooked lips.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions," he spoke, voice vibrating in Changbin's ears, "make sure you answer carefully, alright?" He cocked an eyebrow, feigning an air of sympathy—as if he didn't want to hurt the latter any more than he'd have to.

Changbin felt a chill down his spine. He could only nod in return, Crow's grip on his jaw not allowing for any other form of movement. He could feel his breath on his neck, the smell of alcohol and smoke.

"Where is he?"

Changbin knew exactly who Crow was talking about, but his morals and the oath he took before joining Felix prevented him from saying a word, plus even if he told the truth, he doubted they would spare him. If he was going to betray his own gang, no doubt he would betray theirs.

He was so afraid, and he had no way to defend himself. He was helplessly trapped in the latter's grasp. Crow tightened his grip, and Changbin winced. He could feel his nails digging into his skin. 

Slowly he stammered out an answer. "We dumped him in the Pacific, like Felix said."

Crow's face contorted with anger, and he snarled. He threw Changbin against the ground, and the latter cried out in pain, head connecting with the floor with a sickening crack.

He curled up on the ground, trembling, and the man towered over him.

"Truth be told, I am fully aware that he is not dead."

The man's voice was low and menacing, yet Changbin still shook his head.

"Now tell me where he is, or else..." 

Crow pondered his next choice of words before pulling something from his pocket.

A picture.

A picture of Jeongin.

"Or else I'll find him and the others and kill them," Crow pointed to Jeongin, "but I will make sure he suffers the most."

Changbin's heart skipped a beat. Not Jeongin.

"Don't touch him," Changbin wavered, "please... I'm begging you."

"Are you though?" Crow drawled, clearly unimpressed. "Because if you were begging, you'd be on your knees."

"Just don't touch Jeongin."

Crow laughed at Changbin's humiliating descent from a strong-willed and cocky boy to one who lay on the floor in bloodied pieces.

"What a shame I can't guarantee that," Crow said with a devilish glint in his eyes.

Changbin tried desperately to stand up, but found himself slipping on the blood that lined the floors. He needed to get out, not Jeongin. "Wait, no, fuck no."

No, he can't touch him. Not Jeongin.

Crow shoved the boy backwards. "Sit your fucking ass back down."

Changbin landed with a thud, drawing more tears from his eyes.

"Please, just not Jeongin. He doesn't know anything different," he leaned his head against the wall, briefly closing his eyes. "I killed him, the guy's de-"

His eyes shot open when he felt something being shoved into his mouth.

"If all you're gonna do is spew lies, then shut the fuck up." Crow aggressively pushed the gag back into Changbin's mouth.

"Pmpfh," the younger continued to plead, words muffled and barely audible.

Not Jeongin.

Not Jeongin.

Not Jeongin.

He felt arms wrap around his shivering and pained body, Crow's hand pushing the sweaty hair away from his face, drawing him closer into a tight hold. Changbin wanted to shrink away in fear, but given Crow's grasp, that wasn't going to happen. Crow was hugging him. The boy knew this was some sick facade, but he didn't move an inch. Though he hated it, he was freezing and this embrace garnered some warmth.

"Fear is such a beautiful weapon, don't you think?" Crow whispered into Changbin's ear, feeling the boy's tears seep into his shirt.

"It's amazing what people will do when they're truly terrified," Crow continued as his hands ran lightly down the latter's body, digging his fingers into Changbin's wounds just to hear the sickening sounds it got him.

Changbin's breathing hitched, his eyes half-lidded and his head lolled. When Crow pushed him away, he flopped backward onto the ground, borderline unconscious. Crow grinned and screwed up the photo of Jeongin before tossing it at the boy on the floor. "I have business to attend to, oh, I will make sure it's agonizing."

Not Jeongin.