♡ Part ~ 1 ♡

The room was suffocatingly dark, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the man tied to the chair, his body wracked with pain. His wrists and ankles were bound tightly with heavy iron chains, the cold metal digging into his bruised skin. Blood trickled from his nose, mixing with the sweat dripping down his face.

He didn’t know where he was.

He didn’t know why he was here.

All he knew was pain and fear.

His head drooped forward, exhaustion threatening to pull him into unconsciousness, but just then—

Creak.

The sound of a door opening made him flinch. His entire body tensed as he heard slow, deliberate footsteps approaching.

Someone was coming.

His breath hitched, and he tried to peer through the darkness, but he could see nothing. Just shadows shifting against the faint sliver of moonlight coming from a small, half-open window in the corner of the room. The dim light barely illuminated the figure standing in front of him—tall, broad shoulders, an air of silent authority.

Then—

Click.

A single light flickered on.

The sudden brightness forced him to squeeze his eyes shut before he hesitantly opened them again. His vision was still blurry, but as it cleared, his stomach dropped.

There were four men standing in the room, all dressed in black, their expressions unreadable. Each one carried a gun, their fingers resting lightly on the triggers.

But it was the man sitting in front of him that sent a wave of terror through his body.

A king in the shadows.

Seated on a chair, legs spread casually apart, was a man with jet-black hair and an aura so dark it seemed to consume the light around him. His face was unreadable, his sharp eyes void of emotion, as if he didn’t know what fear was—or simply didn’t care.

And then it hit him.

He knew this man.

He had seen this terrifyingly handsome face before.

And that realization sent pure dread coursing through his veins.

His body trembled involuntarily as he tried to think of a way to escape. But the chains around his limbs reminded him—there was no running. No hiding.

He was trapped.

And now, he had to face him.

"Are you ready to die?"

The deep, slow voice sent shivers down his spine.

The man in front of him was spinning a gun effortlessly in his right hand, his gaze never leaving him. The way he handled the weapon—calm, confident, lethal—made it clear that he had done this before. Many times.

The tied man’s breath quickened. His pulse pounded in his ears. His eyes widened in horror.

"W-what?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The man smirked, leaning forward slightly. "I asked if you're ready to die." His tone was calm, almost bored, like this was just another routine interrogation.

The bound man swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "P-please… I don’t even know why I’m here! I swear, I didn’t do anything!"

The man raised an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly. "Didn’t do anything?" He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You see, that’s where you’re wrong."

The bound man flinched as the gun stopped spinning in the stranger’s hand. He gripped it firmly now, pointing it at him without a moment’s hesitation.

"You crossed the wrong people."

"I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!" he pleaded, his voice shaking.

The dark-haired man exhaled slowly, as if disappointed. "Tsk, tsk, tsk… lying won’t save you, you know." He stood up, walking closer until he was standing right in front of the terrified man.

He leaned down, bringing his face dangerously close.

"So, I’ll ask one last time…" He pressed the barrel of the gun under the man’s chin, tilting his head up forcefully. "Are you ready to die?"

A strangled whimper left the bound man's throat. His entire body was trembling, cold sweat dripping down his back.

And in that moment, as he stared into those merciless eyes—

He knew.

He wasn't getting out of here alive.

The bound man gasped, his entire body trembling as the cold metal of the gun pressed against his chin. His breathing became erratic, fear gripping his chest like a vice. He didn’t dare move—one wrong twitch and his life would be over in a second.

His lips quivered as he tried to speak, but no words came out. His mind screamed at him to beg for mercy, to plead for his life, but looking into those dark, lifeless eyes—he knew.

This man had no mercy to give.

"P-please…" he finally managed to choke out, his voice hoarse.

The dark-haired man smirked, tilting his head slightly. "Please, what?" He applied more pressure under the man's chin, forcing him to look straight into his cold, calculating gaze.

"I—I don’t know what I did! I swear!" the bound man cried, desperate. "If—if it was money, I’ll pay! Just don’t—don’t kill me!"

The man in black let out a quiet chuckle. "Money?" he mused, his tone amused yet deadly. "Do I look like I need your filthy money?"

The bound man’s breath hitched.

"N-no, but—"

"Then why would I waste my time bringing you here?" The man’s voice dropped to a whisper, dangerously low. He pulled the gun away from the man’s chin and instead pressed the barrel against his temple.

The tied man's body went rigid. His heartbeat thundered in his chest, sweat dripping down his face.

"Pl—please…" he whimpered again, his voice barely above a whisper.

The dark-haired man let out a disappointed sigh. He leaned in, so close that his lips nearly brushed against the man's ear.

"I don’t like repeating myself."

The bound man shut his eyes tightly, hot tears slipping down his cheeks.

"I don’t even know what I did!" he sobbed. "I swear on my life, I don’t know!"

The dark-haired man hummed as if considering his words. He took a step back, lowering the gun slightly.

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Hey, guys, I'll try to upload the next part ASAP, I hope you enjoyed this part, I know it's short but please bear with it.

I wanted to write more but I was on the train so due to the network issue I couldn't able to write more. but from the next part, I'll try to write more.

Armies please stay healthy and happy and Borahae 💜🥰