"Y/N," Hoseok says gravely. "The day you were almost murdered."

Just then, you hear gunshots, and a piercing scream exiting through the roof of Taehyung's mouth, the boy you'd met face-to-face earlier this morning. He was shot dead in the arm, trying to stem mass pools of blood stained crimson through his extra baggy white shirt.

You duck for cover while cowering behind the kitchen garbage can, the one item you were strictly avoiding from before. But as you duck and roll, your ribs fail you and crack again. "Ah!" You gasp for the air you don't have, while you flail on the floors you no longer own. Death lurks at your shoulders as you dive headfirst into the only thing you know how: the cabinets, where you undoubtedly bang off your head.

Your ears are ringing, and your ribs were killing you. Your breath is cold at your crisply shaking lips. Your hands clutch your injured wound, as you realize the skin and bone had finally surfaced. It was disgusting. The bone was piercing the outside of your skin, blood seeping through your pink shirt and sweet pair of boyfriend jeans.

Hoseok holds a gun up, steady at his position behind the countertop and kitchen island.

The extremely handsome boy who commented about the cleanliness of the kitchen dropped like a fly. You were actually willing strongly that he'd prevail, because he was a sexy guy working overtime. But to your absolute horror, the young boy is hustled head over heels by a glass cooking bowl to the head. It shatters on his skull, as he hits the floor, widely exposed and formally unconscious.

The lead gunman was draped in a black cloak with a mask covering his face like the area was diseased. This explains why you're coughing so much. You can barely see, as your eyes flare at the red dust flakes decorating the air and expands of the kitchen.

You are gagging, and your lungs are filling up with intoxicated air, as your stomach jumps in your throat like you are about to puke. It lurks darkly at the back of your throat, but the supercell never rises to reel its target.

Unlucky for you, the second man in black points a gun at your head, urging you forcefully to get off your bum to walk. "GET UP!" the voice shouts from behind your head. You cry out when you are forced to crunch into yourself. How else were you supposed to get up? You needed your stomach muscles for that, but there's a white bone sticking through.

It's so gross you that vomit from the jagged pointing sensation in your shirt picking at you. You puke all over the floor, as you are being prodded with a blackened revolver to the head. Jungkook walks in just as you barf your last, which consists of mostly bile and stomach acid in all.

"Hey, Y/N, did—" Jungkook was cut off by a crushing blow to the head. He falls into the corner of the kitchen cabinets, reeling hard against the floor and edge of the cupboards. He was so strong he fell straight through cabinets, as the solid wood gave out, crashing to shreds from under him.

"Jungkook!" you cry out, a sobbing wreck of a solely malfunctioning human being within a scary situation as this. You were trapped, and Jungkook was just bashed over the head. Taehyung was shot, the handsome boy in the middle of the floor was unconscious, and you and the sloth are confined to the hard cold floor.

Jungkook rubs his head and massages his side, running a free hand through his bright red hair. He was definitely a feisty one, and wouldn't give up that easily. Jungkook points a loaded gun at the first guy with enough bravery to kill off a country.

Jungkook was a brave and sexy muscle pig that made you shiver his odds despite. You would help him if you could, but your lifeless form lays facedown next to the lazily lounging sloth beside you and the kitchen cabinets.

In the meantime, Taehyung was bleeding out and moaning lightly under the terrifying circumstances. "Y-Y/N," he moans, clutching his shoulder and rolling back and forth on the ground. He shouldn't have said anything. Another bullet penetrates his arm again, as he shrieks is daunting agony.

"NO," you sob, but the that only pushes the man guarding you to force in on yourself even more, hurting your ribs to an even greater extent. You feel another one penetrating your skin, just digging to find a way out into the open of this chaotic misery. It was only seconds that you were up and smushed down into a secluded corner beside this sloth who wouldn't move to save his freaking life.

Jungkook digs in his heels and thrusts a bullet into the abdomen of the lead assistant. He shouldn't have done anything at all. The lead assassin shoots Jungkook in the chest, and the boy reels in utter defeat.

"JUNGKOOK," you cry, twisting and squirming. You're back to puking again at the looks of your generally uncomfortable position.

Jungkook was out like a light. There was only Jimin left, and you have no idea of where he could possibly be. He'd best be hiding upstairs where he belongs, his innocent little head away from all this.

Suddenly, you hear a popping sound, and witness the short death of the lead assassin, dropping head and knee before you. His body hitting the floor with one final and absolute thud. Jimin casually walks into the mass rupture of destruction.

"Jimin!" You are crying as you try to sit at an angle, coughing up blood.

Jimin runs over to you, and touches the bone sticking out from your stomach. He looks around and makes a head count of who's conscious and who's not. It was only the three of you: you, Hoseok, and Sloth. Not soul left but the sheer lingering of ruthless violence and possible death.

"Taehyungie! Jungkookie!" Jimin drags Taehyung over, leaving a sprawled Jungkook to lounge against the cabinets broken to shreds. You are so not worried for him that you crawl tooth and nail to his hopefully non-final resting place.

As you approach the lifelessly limp and motionless body, your stomach begins to rise into your throat again. When you open his eyelids, he appears awake, but not alert. Laying inert on the floor was all that Jungkook was good at doing right now. And there was nothing you could do to help it.

"Dig out the bullet, Y/N." Jimin's softly innocent voice grabs your immediate and full attention. Yet somehow, his words come as a shock to you.

Mother Farkle.

Joking.

Right?

"Y/N," Jimin says, and you snap back into focus.

"Hm?"

"Dig out the bullet," he says, gesturing to Jungkook. You are so sick right now, you can't even look at your own blood, much less bear the troubled shards wedged in between you and Jungkook's heart. You begin to consider if he was really that worth it.

He was super cute-looking like he was dying, but were you that inhumane to actually let it happen? Nope. Can't do it. You're too nice, Y/N. Digging out a bullet required more physical and mental strength than you had actually acquired.

Luckily, the specks of red speckled dust had subsided, giving you enough leeway to see and evaluate the situation. Breathe, Y/N, you can do this. Taking a brave hand overhead, you maneuver your fingers into the crevice of where the bullet had punctured. It was deep into his chest, as you had wriggle your fingers in there to tug on it and pull it out.

You reach your fingers calmly and collectively over the the ridden area of skin. With shaking fingers, you lower them in like a crane. You hear Hoseok sigh in slight annoyance, as he is hidden behind his want to help you through gaining experience in such situations as this. His eyes were still watering from the red dust and specks of intoxicated air.

But his form was untouched and perfectly unharmed in all the right ways. "Allow me," he says, immediately pushing your fingers out of the way.

Gladly, you think, imagining how disgusting it would be to really touch somebody else's blood. Hoseok immediately sticks his fingers in the fluid volcano of blood, splashing under the surface as if to obtain an object of gold and silver. His finger resurfaces with the bullet in hand and the prize being retrieved, and thankfully, Jungkook's life.

* * *

"There, that otta do it," Jimin says, finishing the bandage on your ribs. The two of you still have to put your heads together in figuring out how you are going to mend it, but still your concern rests in the line of the terribly rude and vaguely unpolished Jeon Jungkook, who was being bandaged by Hoseok in the corner.

You just love the way everything was just synchronized in perfect order. Your ribs are sticking out, Jungkook might die, and Taehyung got shot in the arm. TWICE.

You were stuck in these walls made of stone in the city. These boys risked everything to save you, yet you still feel trapped somehow, like the connections to your family are still there. "Y/N," Hoseok calls your name.

You look up and give him your pleading attention.

"Come help me finish the bandage for Jungkook," he says.

You are utterly shocked and fully taken aback. Why would he ask you of all people, knowing that you and Jungkook are rivals to help save his life? Technically you tried and failed the first, but that doesn't mean you want to do it again. As you approach Hoseok with a tiring sigh, you are surprised at what you see.

You see a freaking breakfast in bed.

Jungkook modeled a very strong abdomen, and a smooth, slick jawline. His lips were peacefully parted as his perfectly perfect red hair glinted in the filtering light from the window. He was so peaceful and oddly serene, considering all the commotion and heartache he's caused you the ruthless day before.

A wandering hand graces over his wound. You retract immediately however, startled that you might hurt him.

Hoseok smiles faintly at you. "You can't hurt him, Y/N," he reassures. "He's out cold sleeping." Which was true, but still disturbing of an action to try. "Can you hold the gnaws in place for me?" he asks.

"Mhm," you hum as you synchronize the action. Placing a steady palm atop of the working procedure, you hold down the gnaws while Hoseok wraps the wound. Only one thing seems to pester your mind. Would he make it?

"Trust me, Y/N," Hoseok says, as if reading your mind. His eyes are black and true. "He's going to make it." It was like he was saying it firmly for his own benefit.

You nod it off, as one more question seems to boggle your mind. "Why didn't you save Taehyung?" is your question of the day.

Hoseok sighs, but smiles lightly at you, a knowing one that has definitely been tried in past dilemmas. "Y/N, don't you know I have to fasten my oxygen mask before I help others?" You are utterly clueless. He wraps a comforting hand around your shoulders. "Oh, my sweet and beautiful, Y/N. I will teach you, okay?"

You nod, and look back at Jungkook.

His lips had changed positions. Oh my gosh his lips had changed positions. Looking back Hoseok as quickly as you could as if it had given the confirmation that he was awake. But he was severely groggy and in no apparent mood to talk. He just sat there, moaning.

And when Hoseok began wrapping his wound, Jungkook began shouting because of the pain. You were terrified, because you've never seen a bad boy shriek before.

"Hoseok, what the frick?" you say over the loud commotion. "Get him some painkillers. Or better yet, take him to the hospital!"

Hoseok continues to bandage Jungkook, no matter how much he yelped and squirmed. "I can't, Y/N! Or they'll know!" he yells back.

"Know what?" you question.

The only words you hear exit the roof of Hoseok's mouth was, ". . . gang members!"

Wait what? You almost puked again, because that was just sick. "You're WHAT!?"

Jungkook shouts even louder as his pain seems to skyrocket, but his complaints subside subside when his bandaging was done and over with. He was sweating so much, running a high fever, as you scrape the edge of his forehead and run fingers through his red and sweaty hair.

He was breathing in relief head tossed back, eyes closed, panting for life to just be finished for him. You feel a grabbing sensation on your hand. When you look down, Jungkook is gripping your hand so tight you can see his knuckles turning white.

His breath is shaky, flowing quickly by the minute.

You are so sorry for being so rude to him earlier. You should have just let him make the stupid pancake and be satisfied in getting the thrill to conquer you for once.

This was all your fault. Maybe if you hadn't stayed here, those guys wouldn't have come into to shoot up the place. It was your fault that you were all confined to these walls of hate.

The castle walls of doom.

A/N

Hey, Kitty here! ^^

I've decided that I'm going to go with when and what time inspires me. That is how I'll write from now on.

And idk the only thing that matches up with this song is this idea of being trapped and confined to the uncomfortable dwellings life brings upon us. Just thought you should know ^^

Also, when you listen to Castle Walls, think about the screaming and agony the characters go through in being trapped in this house, the castle walls.

Much love, your cat, MC ^^ ㅋㅋ

Unedited, so, so sorryy