THE PRIVILEGED

DEIMOS SPACECRAFT // MARCH 27TH 2937

A SONG TO SET THE MOOD: FEAR ON FIRE — RUELLE

CHAPTER SEVEN: YOU WILL BE OKAY, JUST BREATHE

—

He cocked the gun.

All he could do was gape back in horror; his skin was rapidly paling as seconds that felt like an eternity ticked by mockingly.  Jungkook eventually heard himself scream in horror; it erupted raucously into his ears, echoing off the iron, interior walls.

It was more of a cry for help, but inside his own state of mentality, as his vocalization was trapped within his encephalon. 

The shriek pounded on the interior of his firm skull in trepidation, unable to escape from the darkness that fogged over him like a calamitous, endless abyss of anxiety and phycological torture.

Every little bawl that leaked from his thin, rosy lips seemed audible to him; unfortunately they remained unheard to the peers around him. The piercing voices inside of his head were uncontrollable, like they had their own conscious and abilities.

Everything felt so familiar, even strange.  It was what could be named a hushed moment of unalloyed shock or even déjà vu.

But he reminded himself to take one deep breath at a time: everything would eventually be okay after all of this was over.  However, his breathing was erratic and shallow, as he silently gasped for polluted oxygen filtered by the aged air vents.

His lungs felt like they were being gratingly compressed together by the anxiety that swarmed him in hissing wisps and notion until he was on the verge of being lifeless.

Focusing on his oxygen levels was most important to him at that exact moment in time —mainly stabilizing his current state was definitely his first and possibly his final priority.

Inhale, exhale, repeat.

Inhale, exhale, repeat.

You will be okay, just breathe.

The sickening sound of his inconsistent huffs of the gas around him pervaded his senses and his ringing eardrums entirely. Jungkook gave his best attempt to mentally barricade away his own voice continuously screaming in his head, over, and over, and over again.

What he needed the most was a short time frame of bravery to strike within him; he craved the need to feel vehement just for a single minute in a lapse of time. For Jimin's life, for his own.

Most people could usually muster a temporary mental ability to undergo a streak of valor for approximately several seconds; only until it fades away when fear brutally decides to spear them in their thorax.

His noggin suddenly clicked vigorously; the feeling of courage swam through his ichor, slithering on his skin as if it was telling him to use his chance.

A chance to speak up and fight against those whom oppressed him; the few seconds of bravery would only exist for just a matter of his sake and soul.

"Drop it," he said.  Terror still crept upon his skin, grabbing at the hairs on his neck and pulling them menacingly. Tiny goosebumps bloomed on his skin, distress leisurely devouring him once more.  "Drop it now!"

Mr. Yang only laughed, "What did you just tell me to do? An authority? A man with a gun? Are you really that stupid, child?"

His simple choice of threatening words left the teenager speechless. Why would a single soul even let the thought cross them to produce such utterance? Jungkook despised it; it disgusted him.

However, Mr. Yang's threats made Jungkook's doe eyes grow impossibly larger, so that they could now possibly be the exact same proportions of an owl's.

Maybe it was foolish of him to attempt to challenge a man with obvious power over him. Maybe even letting a course of bravery flow through his system was just as stupid as trying to spark a fire, but using ice as the wretched fuel.

"I- I. . ." he couldn't mutter any proper words, "I said— I said to d-drop it!"

From the corner of his eye, Jimin was visibly shaking his head in disbelief.  He noticed how his globes were as astray as his in anticipation.  The aghast expression on his face was enough to make Jungkook's ichor run cold, practically glacial.

"You idiot!" only Jungkook was listening to Jimin's vexed remark.

Jimin then decided to keep his luscious lips sealed shut, pursing them together with furrowed brows. The horror that entirely engulfed his face was evident —Jimin was just as frightened as Jungkook.

It was like the fleetingly lapse of audacity had slipped from between Jungkook's finger tips. The temporary gallantry that he had gained was now extinct as he cowered back in shivering tremor.

However, Mr. Yang had a serpentine glint in his daring eyes.  A sly smirk began to tug at his chapped lips. His steel clasp on the metal gun tightened impossibly; the repulsive sound of his fingers cracking aroused the eerie atmosphere was disgusting.

The brunet felt himself cringe when Mr. Yang retorted: "Now, now, remember I have the higher up here and you do not," he briefly paused, "now please, let's make this easy if you'd enter the air lock."

At this point, Jungkook had to pray that Jimin's naivety wouldn't get the best of him in such a horrid situation. Unfortunately, his idiocy would most likely get the best of him; it usually did.

And that's exactly what happened.

"Or what?" The blond densely countered, placing his quivering hands on his slim hips as he began to wiggle them in an impudent fashion. "Are you gonna shoot my juicy, thick ass?"

His voice was shaky, eyes filled with determination and alarm. Jimin was in fact petrified, but he refused to let an old man known for generating unwanted trouble within Deimos demolish him with such a mammoth ego.

The blond was a witless dog.

"Seriously, Park? Of course I am," Mr. Yang retorted in return.  He pulled the trigger without a second thought.

Jungkook flinched, discerning the dreadful gunshot that rang and lingered in the deafening silence with a loud bang!  The booming resonance was followed by an agonized shriek, coming from Jimin.

Warning bells blared inside his eardrums in alarm; Jungkook swore he'd almost sent himself into a never-ending whammy.

He quickly whipped his head towards Jimin's direction in a heartbeat, noticing how crimson began to bloom like a new rosebud on his clothed bicep.

His white dress shirt was now permanently stained with scarlet dye, which grossly seeped conspicuously from Jimin's throbbing bullet wound.

The exertion that spread across his once brazen guise meshed into a discomforted expression; Jimin ached to curl up into a protective ball and weep to himself in utter embarrassment.  The dull throbbing was unbearable; he couldn't handle it on his own.

Jimin wasn't one to take pain lightly —it was a fact.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! That hurts!" He wailed disturbingly as he stumbled backwards and clamped a faltering hand over his liquid-gushing arm.

Jimin's delicate body nearly went slack; he even felt himself grow sore, tense muscles practically convulsing in anguish.  The boy had a desolate appearance of being on the verge of tears, impatiently waiting to cascade down his waning cheeks in embarrassment.

Jungkook sent him a longing stare; he felt the somewhat irresistible need to shower Jimin with love and affection, and to make sure he would be alright and well-kept. The teenager wanted to make sure that he was safe and sound and tucked away in solitary confinement for his own good.

In spite of it all, both Jungkook and Jimin had far worse matters to comprehend.

"Damn, I thought this was silenced!" The eldest glowered, steadying himself.  "Now if you don't want to be shot again, then step into the fucking airlock!"

Mr. Yang gave the impression of gradually jittering out of his baggy jeans in anticipation; it was like the man's mood was augmenting in exhilaration.  The sight of his cocky grin and elation made Jungkook sick to his stomach.

Jimin nodded frantically with a brisk jerk of his head, obeying his life-threatening orders by slithering over to the keypad next to the glass door.  His digits were jittering violently as he opened the door with a simple push of a button.

Jungkook was left alone raging, refusing to believe Jimin's vacancy: "What the fuck are you doing?  That's suicide!"

The look on his face was begging Jungkook to listen; to stop causing anymore unnecessary drama with Mr. Yang. They would be free from the torture if they left, departing the horrific premises could be a positive move.

"I don't want anyone else to get shot," he murmured, biting back the struggle that forced his voice to crack silently. "We'll die either way."

The way he applied pressure to his wound as boiling, thick liquid trickled out from between his diminutive fingers was appalling to the other. Jimin might have been visibly frail to the circumstances, yet instead he put on a face of nerve for his audience of two.

A stifled laugh implicitly erupted, "If you idiots really want to live, just get in the damned escape pod!  I don't want you dead, I just want you gone.  You're both so damn naive!" Mr. Yang shortly found himself uncontrollably cackling at their fleeting conversation.

He certainly didn't understand Jimin's point. Jimin was betting on bleeding out by the time he even got to Earth; they wouldn't even last a single millisecond if they arrived on the treacherous planet.

"I think we—" Jimin groaned, ceasing his statement as he recoiled, "know that by now!"

The blond beckoned for Jungkook to follow him inside with a simple movement of his head as he winced in seething pain, finally letting the unwanted, salty teardrops fall. Jimin was mutely sulking to himself, in his own excruciating affliction.

"Wait a minute, he said he wanted us to go on a space walk.  And now he wants us to go into the escape pod?  What the fuck is your motive?" Jungkook questioned in retort, narrowing his sharp eyes at Mr. Yang. After deeply thinking for a jiffy; he understood that they didn't know a valid reason behind his efforts to get rid of them.

"You really think that I'd tell you?  You don't need to know, Jeon."

His feet remained firmly planted on the floor, refusing to inch forwards into the claustrophobic room.  Jungkook sensed that they were about to downpour into a deadly trap; Mr. Yang was intelligent.

Jimin choked back a dejected sob, cradling his injured limb and staring Jungkook down with a pleading embodiment.

Mr. Yang made a barbarous decision for him when a brawny force physically impelled him forwards, into the airlock with Jimin. The man had coerced them into his little scheme.

Before Jungkook could take the respite time to twirl around on his heel and fight back, his exit was blocked off by the sealed door sliding shut. Mr. Yang had a wretched hand hovering over the button that locked them inside.

"No, no!" He wailed, charging at the glass blockage.  He pounded frustrated fists on it indignantly. "You can't fucking do this! You can't do this to us, you sick bastard!"

The betrayal splayed out on his face was no other than a pang to Jimin's heart; seeing Jungkook this deranged made him implode into wee fragments.

"Jungkook, please!  It's not worth fighting back," Jimin tried to convince him, still quaking due to his critical injury.

He huffed out a frustrated sigh and took a second glance at Jimin, then he shifted his gaze over to Mr. Yang who flashed a toothy grin.  His smile was obviously readable, like he was teasing him for catching him off-guard by shoving him inside.

Jungkook noticed how Jimin's short breaths began to falter when he peeped back to him once more; he was completely drained of the rosy tint in his cheeks.

His eyes were puffy, swollen and red.  His saline emotions were unmistakable, easy to be seen and heard by whomever around him.  The uncontrollable tears plopped to the floor in a heap, as Jimin bore discomfort in an unalloyed manner.

Even his wobbling lip sent Jungkook over the edge.  He felt the exigency to swaddle the elder in unconditional love and affection.  Jungkook was even surprised that Jimin had the capability of remain stable on his feet with blood still spilling out of his open wound.

He couldn't imagine the amount of anxiety that Jimin was enduring; he was the one that faced Jungkook's hair-raising terror.  Listening to Jimin for once in a life time was an ethical choice; maybe he was right.

"O-Okay, I'll come with you," he quavered with an ample gaze, shuffling over to him with his head bowed downwards.

"Thank you," Jimin squeaked meekly in approval; his wavering grasp found the keypad to open the escape pod, a ringed finger pressing down on it before it wedged open.

A thunderous shout boomed from the other side of the door: "Hurry the fuck up and get inside before I fucking throw you out of there! I don't have all fucking day!"

A snort skidded past the youngest's tongue, Deimos was a shit hole, when a ponderous thought ran through him.  Departing the premises was like an unseen freedom to him; now he definitely wanted to leave.

"We know! Shut the fuck up Captain Obvious!" He subsequently hollered with an impertinent eye roll.

"Watch your mouth, Jeon."

Jungkook grunted in response after skidding behind Jimin into the escape pod, ignoring the pointless argument concerning his remarks.

The door sealed shut behind him with a faint click.  It wouldn't be too long before Mr. Yang launched the escape pod from outside of the compact room. They only had a matter of leisure time to get settled in, and Jimin was on the brink of fainting.

His eyelids drooped heavily over his eyes, squished nose scrunched up in pain as he clenched his fist and clung onto his bicep lifelessly.

"You alright?" Jungkook reassured; empathy swallowed him whole. He shuffled over to one of the two leather seats and nestled in it, delicately strapping himself in and mentally placing Jimin under an unsettling scrutiny.

"I'm fine," Jimin replied, mimicking Jungkook's actions with precaution.

It seemed that in the same minute he finished his phrase —which was a salient fib, his head tumbled forwards, into his chest.  And he passed out.

Yeah, assuredly not fine.

As if on cue to his faltering, an obscure hiss entered the palpable air. What happened next was a complete blur for Jungkook; he didn't have the ability to recall anything up to the point where he heard a crash outside of the escape pod.

It was like his forlorn world had shut down on him; his anxiety levels swooped so high that he suddenly felt dizzy as an unfamiliar scent invaded his nostrils.

The foul stench could have been the cause of him blacking out miserably, unless his mind went completely blank on him.

Reality walloped into him like a bulldozer, pushing away unnecessary thoughts and feelings along with his merely limp body.

A sticky substance was trickling down his forehead, on the left hand side of his face. His head abruptly pulsated madder than a badger, his brain was straining to form a single complementation.

Gurgled groans escaped him as he scanned the area around him; everything looked the same —excluding the fact that the door was open and Jimin was nowhere to be seen.

It took him several, protracted moments to snap out of his momentary daze.  He didn't even notice the fact that Jimin being long gone wasn't an reassuring sign.

His mouth descended agape when realization slapped him across the face: "Shit!  Jimin?"

Of course he didn't respond.  Jungkook frantically scanned the area, his eyes landing on a foreign figure which stood at the entrance of the ship.  Whatever it was stared directly back at his face.

It was the body of a short man; Jungkook could barely make out his distinct feature as he drew closer.  The only thing that crossed his mind was this peculiar man being a major threat; he could've taken Jimin and killed him.

Jungkook shook his head wildly when he began to slowly trudge over to his seat.  The tips of fingers found the buckle to his seatbelt; the switch to unlock it wasn't functioning properly as he jolted and twisted in the leather's unyielding clutches.

Shit, he was confined in something that was supposed to keep him safe.

Jungkook yanked on the leather rope which restrained him in a frantic manner.  Beads of thwarting sweat blossomed out of his pores.

"No! No! Get away from me!" He harrowingly wailed at the man's grim expression; however, it was almost impossible to take a single glimpse at his insipid face.

—

END OF CHAPTER SEVEN

A/N
The initiating event finally hit!

A question for you: Why do you think this is the initiating event?

Don't forget to vote and comment!

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