Warning: Dear Readers, This chapter contains intense and graphic scenes that depict brutal torture and violence. It explores deeply painful themes, including physical and psychological suffering, and contains vivid descriptions of blood and injury. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

If you are sensitive to such topics or find them distressing, please consider skipping this chapter. Your well-being is important, and we encourage you to prioritize your mental health. Thank you for your understanding.
Sincerely,
ParkAaimin.

Chapter 34: (Aaira's pov)
8 August, 2025

The sharp sting of cold water jolted me awake. My eyes fluttered open to find myself in a dimly lit room, bound to a wooden chair. Panic surged through me as I tried to move, only to realize my wrists and ankles were securely tied with rough, thick ropes.

I was glad that it was not the nails again, but the room was old and decrepit, with cobwebs clinging to the corners and a musty smell pervading the air. I hated being here, i started crying as i tried to pull my hand away from the chair, chains after chains tied up to my hands, made a web like shape.

I turned my head, struggling against the restraints, to see the old man standing before me, he lit a cigarette for himself as he started to puff at it. His face, gaunt and lined with years of cruelty, twisted into a sinister smile.

Old man: Welcome back home, Aaira.

He said with a chilling calmness. I let out a scream, my voice echoing off the walls.

Aaira: Let me go! What do you want from me?

The old man's smile widened.

Old man: You made a grave mistake walking out of Ian's house. That man would never know when you die now.

Fear and confusion gripped me. How he found me, i remember I was at my residence.

Aaira: How did you find me? How did you know where I was?

The old man's eyes gleamed with malevolent satisfaction.

Old man: I've been keeping an eye on you ever since you were at his home. You didn't think you could escape our reach so easily, did you?

The realization hit me like a cold wave. They had been tracking me, watching my every move. The very idea that they had monitored my interactions with Ian and Azura sent a shiver down my spine.

Aaira: What do you want from me?

I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady despite the rising panic. The old man took a few more drags of his cigarette, the acrid smoke curling in the dim light before he flicked it aside.

His eyes narrowed with a cruel delight as he approached me, his hands reaching out in a manner that made my skin crawl. The ember glowed briefly before it went out. His eyes, dark and cruel, locked onto me as he approached. His presence was menacing, and his intentions became horrifyingly clear.

I watched in terror as his hands reached out, touching me in ways that filled me with a deep sense of dread. His fingers traced along my arms and shoulders, moving down to my chest and abdomen with a disturbing familiarity.

His touch was cold and repulsive, each caress only intensifying my fear. I squirmed in my restraints, trying to pull away, but the ropes were unforgiving. I screamed for Jungkook.

Aaira: Jungkook !

I started to breathe heavily.

Aaira: Jungkook!

Old man: He's not going to come to you, little kitten.

I started to pull my hands from the chair more desperately, as tears streamed down my face.

Aaira: Jungkook !

My breath quickened as his hands roamed lower, pressing against my sides and moving towards my waist. His hands were rough and invasive, making me shiver in disgust. Was he going to rape me? The thought was unbearable.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, each beat echoing the panic and horror I was experiencing. If this happens today, let Jungkook be, he would accept me or not, that's a different thing, for that I need to be aliv, but i could never live with this trauma.

He leaned closer, his breath hot and foul against my ear.

Old man: You're good for nothing.

His words were a knife twisting in my gut, adding to the violation I was already enduring. My mind raced, desperately trying to think of a way out. I tried to scream, but the sound was choked off by the fear and the physical limitations of my bindings.

The old man's hands continued their insidious moves against my trembling body, moving dangerously close to areas that made me want to recoil in sheer terror. I felt his belt buckle as he fumbled with it. My breathing became ragged, each gasping a desperate plea for escape.

He slowly pulled out his belt, as he started to unbutton his jeans, Suddenly, the door burst open, and the old woman stormed in. Her eyes were wide with a mixture of anger and disbelief as she took in the scene before her.

Old woman: What are you going to do?

Her voice was sharp, filled with an edge of authority that momentarily halted the old man's actions. His hands paused, and he turned to face her with a scowl, frustration clear on his face.

Old man: Mind your business. This one needs to be taught a lesson.

The old woman's gaze shifted to me, her expression softening with a touch of pity, though it was quickly masked by her usual sternness.

Old woman: We have other methods. There's no need for this.

Her words, though cold, provided a sliver of hope. The old man grunted in annoyance but stepped back, his hands withdrawing from their inappropriate exploration. As soon as he released me, I began to cry uncontrollably. My sobs were ragged, and my voice trembled as I shouted,

Aaira: Why are you doing this to me?

The old woman's face twisted with anger and disdain as she responded sharply.

Old woman: Because you tarnished our reputation.

The words struck me like a blow. My heart pounded with fear and confusion, and I felt a rising wave of desperation.

Aaira: So you're going to rape me?

The accusation was out before I could stop it, and my voice cracked with the weight of my distress. The old woman's face was a mask of icy resolve as she looked at me.

Old woman: We have our ways of dealing with traitors.

The coldness in her voice only made my tears flow harder. I could feel the raw discomfort and violation of the situation, and the realization of what almost happened left me shaking. The thought of being subjected to such cruelty was unbearable.

I sobbed uncontrollably, my cries echoing off the cold, oppressive walls of the room. My shoulders shook with the force of my emotions, and every breath I took felt like a struggle. The old woman's voice cut through my sobs with a chilling clarity.

Old woman: I'll make you suffer, no doubt about that. But I wouldn't let him rape you.

Her words offered a cruel form of solace. I continued to cry. The old woman's decision, however twisted, meant that I would not face one additional layer of torment.

Old woman: We'll find other ways to make you regret crossing us.

Her gaze was steely, devoid of any empathy. The coldness in her eyes was horrible. I shuddered at the thought of what other forms of suffering they had in store for me. I could only nod through my tears, feeling helpless and broken. The old woman turned on her heel and left the room, the sound of her footsteps fading away.

The door slammed shut with a heavy thud, sealing me once again in the dimly lit, oppressive space. The room felt colder now, the silence amplifying my fear and despair. I was left alone, my body still trembling from the ordeal, and my mind reeling with the harsh reality of my situation, I began to scream Jungkook's name.

Aaira: Jungkook! Jungkook, please, help me! I need you!

The room echoed with my cries, but there was no response, only the silence that mocked my pleas, I kept crying. The old woman had left me alone again, and the weight of my helplessness pressed down on me like a suffocating shroud. She should be here, no, I can't stay here alone. I'm scared.

Aaira: Jungkook, where are you? Why aren't you here? I'm so scared! Please, don't let them do this to me!

My cries grew more frantic as I imagined him rushing to my rescue, fighting through any obstacle to save me. I pictured him breaking through the walls of this wretched place, shattering the chains that bound me, and pulling me into his safe embrace. But as the minutes ticked by, the cruel reality settled in: he was nowhere to be found.

Aaira: Jungkook, please, come back to me! I believed you would come for me. I need you!

The sound of my own voice, pleading and broken, seemed to bounce back at me, mocking my belief that Jungkook would save me. The hope that had once seemed so solid was now crumbling into despair. I could hear my own desperation in my voice, the disbelief that he wasn't coming to rescue me.

I pictured him, somewhere far away, living his life without me. The thought that he might not even know where I was, that he might not be able to find me ever again, was almost too much to bear.

Aaira: Why aren't you here? Why aren't you coming for me? I trusted you! I need you to save me!

The silence that followed my screams was itself horrifying. The thought of being alone, abandoned in this grim place, gnawed at me. I could almost feel the distance between us, the physical and emotional void where his presence should have been.

I collapsed against the chair, my cries fading into soft sobs. The painful reality of my situation settled over me like a heavy fog. Jungkook's absence felt like a betrayal, a cruel twist of fate that left me stranded and alone.

Aaira: Jungkook, I believed in you. Why are you not here?

My voice trailed off into a broken whisper, the strength to scream slipping away. All that was left was the aching silence, the cruel reality of my isolation, and the ever-present fear of what might come next.

The old man re-entered the room, carrying a tray of food that seemed oddly out of place in this nightmarish scenario. As he approached, my body began to shiver uncontrollably. The sight of the food, so mundane amidst the horror, made me want to recoil even more.

He knelt before me, holding a spoonful of the unappetizing meal. His eyes were dark with a malevolent glee as he tried to force the spoon into my mouth. My head jerked away in instinctive resistance.

Aaira: No! Please, no!

The old man's patience snapped, I hate him with every ounce of my body, his voice started to rise in anger, as he spoke.

Old man: Eat! You need to eat!

I gagged as the spoon neared, my stomach rejecting the food at the mere thought of it. I could barely breathe, the fear and disgust overwhelming my senses. He thrust the spoon closer, but I continued to pull away, my body tensing in resistance.

The old man's temper flared. With a roar of frustration, he threw the tray aside, the clatter of the dishes striking my ears like a cruel mockery of my suffering. The food scattered across the floor, but I barely noticed as the old man's rage turned toward me.

Without warning, he grabbed his belt and lashed it against my exposed legs. The leather stung with each strike, the pain was extremely sharp and unforgiving. I cried out, tears streaming down my face as I was subjected to his fury.

Aaira: No, please! Stop! I can't take it!

The old man showed no mercy, his strikes growing more intense and erratic. I sat there on the chair, helpless and broken, my cries of pain mingling with my sobs. The belt came down again and again, each blow a reminder of my powerlessness.

As I sat there, trembling and gasping for breath, the only sound was the harsh rhythm of the old man's anger and my own labored breathing. I struggled to endure the relentless assault.

In my mind, I kept calling out for Jungkook, my heart breaking with each unanswered plea. I wished for his presence, his protection, anything to end this torment. But all that remained was the harsh reality of the old man's cruelty, the unbearable weight of my faith, and the hollow ache of abandonment.

Eventually, the old man's rage seemed to ebb, and he stepped back, breathing heavily. He looked at me with a mix of satisfaction and contempt before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving me crumpled and bruised on the chair.

I finally had a moment to examine the damage inflicted upon me. My body was a canvas of pain, burning skin, marks and bruise. I forced myself to look at the areas I could see, despite the pain and the effort it took.

The burning marks on my pale skin were vivid and horrifying. Red welts and angry streaks crisscrossed my legs and arms where the leather belt had struck. The skin's intense redness contrasted against my otherwise pale complexion.

In some places, the skin had been raised in painful ridges, the texture was rough and uneven from sides. The lines left by the belt formed a harsh, grid-like pattern, a grotesque testament to the violence I had endured.

The areas I couldn't see directly were likely just as damaged. The pain radiating from them suggested more bruising and burns, unseen but deeply felt. My arms, bound to the chair, throbbed with a dull ache, hinting at the marks that might be hidden beneath the ropes, or my back.

The sensation of heat and soreness spread over my entire body, each touch or movement sending waves of agony through me, the sight of my damaged skin only deepened.

***

Hours passed in a torturous haze, I stay there, bound and broken, hoping for a sign of rescue, but the silence of the room was only interrupted by the occasional creak of old wood. The hope that someone, anyone, would come to my aid grew fainter with each passing hour.

I thought of Seokjin, of the man who once seemed like my best friend. My heart ached with the thought that he might be the one to come to my rescue. I wished he would burst through the door, demanding that I be set free, but the hours dragged on with no sign of him.

None of the people I had hoped for, none of the ones I had trusted, were coming. The old man and woman's threats seemed more real than ever, instead of the false promises of rescue I had clung to.

The cold, harsh reality of my situation set in. My thoughts wandered to Jungkook and Aimin. I wondered how they were coping without me, if they even knew what had happened. I tried to focus on the hope that somehow, someone might still be searching for me, but the desolation of the room and the relentless pain made it hard to hold onto any optimism.

The more I waited, the more my hope dwindled. My strength was fading, my will to fight dimming. The old man and woman had succeeded in their goal of making me feel abandoned and forgotten. The realization that I might be left here, alone and suffering, was almost more than I could bear.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the world. I focused on the faint, distant hope that maybe, just maybe, someone would come for me, but as the hours continued to tick by, that hope became a fragile thread in a storm of darkness.

The door creaked open, and the old woman stormed into the room. Her eyes swept over me with a cold satisfaction that made my skin crawl. I remained unresponsive, feeling more like a broken shell than a person. My soul felt as if it had been stripped away, leaving behind a hollow vessel.

She moved closer to me, as she began to untangle my hands. Her hands gripping my bound arms and dragging me out of the room. The rough, unforgiving grip of her hands only served to accentuate my feeling of helplessness. Each step felt like an eternity as she pulled me through the dimly lit corridors towards the old man's lab.

The lab was a grim place, filled with an array of ominous equipment and dark tools that hinted at the macabre experiments that took place within its walls.

She forced me onto a cold, metal table, the surface was hard against my skin. I lay there, motionless, as she strapped me down with leather straps, and chains, securing my arms and legs. The restraints bit into my skin, but I had neither the strength nor the will to resist.

The old man entered the lab. He carried a tray of needles. The needles were long and thin, their tips gleaming with a menacing sharpness. The sight of them sent a shiver through me, but I couldn't muster the energy to react. Let them do whatever they want I don't have the guts to fight back anymore, I give up on myself.

The old woman began to prepare the needles. She selected one and approached me. I watched as she inserted the needle into my arm, the sharp sting of the needle piercing my skin. I felt the cold liquid being injected, but the pain was a distant sensation, barely registering through the fog of my exhaustion.

As the old man and woman continued their gruesome work, I lay there in silence. No cries for help escaped my lips, no screams punctuated the air. The trauma had stripped away my ability to fight back, leaving me resigned to the torment. The needles continued to puncture my skin, each injection sending a shiver through my body, but I offered no resistance.

They pulled out a device that I later learned was called a camera. Its metallic frame and lens seemed out of place among the grim tools of the lab. The old man clicked the camera's shutter repeatedly, capturing images of the needles piercing my skin, my bound form, and the sterile, cruel environment of the lab.

Each click of the shutter felt like a cold, final confirmation of my suffering, the flashes of light momentarily illuminating the darkened corners of the room. The camera's lens seemed to focus on my pain with a disturbing precision, documenting every detail of my torment with clinical detachment.

My thoughts were numb, my mind a void of darkness. The physical pain was a mere backdrop to the overwhelming ache that had consumed me internally. I had lost the will to fight, to hope, and to cry out for salvation.

The only sound in the room was the steady, rhythmic clinking of the old man's instruments and the faint hum of the machinery as the experiment continued. I was nothing more than a test subject to them, and it's okay ? I was just a body to be experimented on, with my spirit long since broken.

***
9 August, 2025.

The day I was taken started with a deep, terrible feeling of fear. The old woman had tried to feed me again, but her attempt ended with her getting angry and violent.

After that, I was tied to a hard, uncomfortable chair for the rest of the day. The room was filled with the constant noise of machines and the echo of my own cries. The old man and woman worked on their experiments with a cold, heartless attitude. They would often laugh while they hurt me.

I don't know why and what I was paying for, I was just being a cruel pawn in the torturous game of theirs. I tried to call out for Jungkook the whole day ended up getting beaten by the belt, because the old woman was having a headache.

The marks they left on my skin were red and raw, constantly reminding me of how trapped I was. As night came, I could only cry quietly, feeling completely exhausted and scared. The fear and tiredness made me lose any hope of being rescued.

***
10 August, 2025.

The next day was even more terrifying. They started by putting me through an intense and cruel test with extreme temperatures. They made me go through long periods of freezing cold and then switched to burning hot. In this same room, I wish I wouldn't have left Ian's house.

This cycle of cold and heat shocked my body, making me shiver uncontrollably. The icy air made my skin numb, but it was soon replaced by a searing heat that felt like it was burning me alive.

As the day went on, I felt my hope slipping away. I couldn't tell if time was moving very slowly or if it had stopped altogether. I couldn't even think straight, Let Jungkook aside, even Aimin's thoughts had slipped away from my mind.

***
11 August, 2025.

On the third day, the torture became even more horrifying as it started to attack my mind. They made me stay awake all the time for two days straight, with bright, harsh lights shining in the room.

At the same time, loud, disturbing noises played nonstop. The noises-sirens, screeching metal, and distorted voices-were designed to confuse me and wear me down mentally. Every time I tried to close my eyes, the noises would get louder, making it impossible for me to rest. I felt like I was dying without being able to close my eyes.

The old woman would come in now and then, her face showing a cruel satisfaction. She would whisper harsh, mean comments meant to break my spirit even more, I was like a shattered soul trying to survive with every little gut in my body.

My mind felt like it was falling apart, Scattering into tiny Little pieces, slipping into a fog of confusion and hopelessness. By the end of the day, the mental suffering was almost as overwhelming as the physical pain.

***
13 August, 2025.

On the fifth day, they subjected me to a new, more brutal form of torment involving sensory deprivation. They blindfolded me and put earplugs in my ears, cutting me off from all sensory input.

The silence was deep and overwhelming, only to be shattered by sudden, sharp electrical shocks coursing through my body. These shocks were delivered unpredictably, making the experience even more terrifying.

The combination of being unable to see or hear, paired with the sporadic electric shocks, left me disoriented and confused. My sense of time and reality became distorted, making every moment feel endless and unbearable.

I could only endure the pain while bracing for the next shock. My cries for help were swallowed by the darkness, and my desperate pleas went unheard. By this point, my hope was almost gone, replaced by a painful resignation to my grim reality.

Each day they would sleep, asking me to die behind their back, but i don't know what was keeping me alive all this while. I just sat there only bound by the chair. So, that I could go no where. The old woman would take me to the restroom, and tie me back afterwards.

***
14 August, 2025.

By the sixth day, the torture became even more cruel. They started pretending to execute me, using fake tools and dramatic setups to make me think I was about to die. Today it was not them but a third face, I boy nearly in his twenties.

He would show me scary instruments and act like he were going to use them, but then stop at the last moment. This constant fear and suspense were almost too much to handle. I don't know who this guy was, he seemed to be the old man's nephew.

He was like a total maniac, he would laugh suddenly and stop with a poker face. Each time he pretended to kill me, I felt pure terror. The emotional stress of thinking I was going to die over and over again was huge.

I lost track of time because of all the fear and pain. My cries for help turned into weak whispers, and my voice was sore from shouting. Every hour felt like it dragged on forever, keeping me in a constant state of dread.

***
15 August, 2025.

On the final day of this endless torment, the old man and woman carried out their most cruel torture yet. By this point, my mind was filled with pain, and any hope I once had was gone. My cries for help had turned into confused mumbling, and I felt completely broken.

They beat me up with a hunter until I passed out, it was the second most painful day of my life, after the day they nailed my hands. But instead of crying today, i lay there on the ground laughing, while holding my stomach.

The old couple seemed to be confused why I was laughing like this, but I was more confused than them. Throughout these terrible days, I was overwhelmed by hopelessness. The constant physical and mental torture had destroyed my will to live, leaving me a mere shadow of who I used to be.

Each day felt like it lasted forever, with every new form of torture making it clear that there was no escape from this nightmare. Time and hope had become a blurred, endless suffering, leaving me with nothing but relentless pain and a fading will to survive.

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"When I was dying this time, my prayers shifted from asking for your help to begging for the pain to stop and for death to take me."

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