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Copyright © 2019 Igotbangtan777
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(the lead character it will be y/N and that means (your name) as is a fanfiction. I see that some people here have a problem with this. if it's bothering you then don't read. thank you all ❤)
The first time I encountered Jungkook, Naeun took it upon herself to guide me through the intimidating expanse of the prison, hoping to familiarize me with its eerie facade and help me maintain my composure in this unsettling environment.
As we stepped inside, I was immediately struck by the sheer enormity of the building. The high ceilings and expansive corridors loomed over me like towering giants, amplifying my sense of insignificance. The air was frigid, sending shivers down my spine, and an oppressive stillness hung heavily in the atmosphere.
The sterile, dimly lit walls seemed to close around us, casting long shadows dancing eerily in the flickering fluorescent lights. The thought of being trapped in such a closed, dark space evoked a visceral dread. It was as if the walls themselves whispered tales of despair, and I could feel the weight of countless lost souls pressing down on my chest. The very idea of becoming disoriented and lost in that terrifying labyrinth sent chills racing along my spine, leaving me feeling vulnerable and small.
The air felt heavy and foreboding as we walked through the dimly lit corridor. The sudden screams from the cells pierced the stillness like a siren, each cry filled with desperation and rage. The sharp click of our heels reverberated off the cold, unyielding prison walls, amplifying the tension that enveloped us. I tried to tread softly, each step feeling like an intrusion into a world I was terrified to enter. Fear coursed through me, paralyzing my limbs and tightening my throat. I was acutely aware of the grim realities of the individuals confined in these cells.
Rapists.
Killers.
People with mental problems.
There were so many.
The air was thick with whistling, each note laced with crude words piercing the atmosphere and making my skin crawl. I felt the vibrations of their taunts resonate in my ears, turning my stomach into a tight knot of anxiety. I couldn't bring myself to glance in their direction; the thought sent me a jolt of fear. My body trembled uncontrollably as if trying to flee from an unseen danger. My heart raced in my chest, pounding so violently that it felt like it might shatter my ribs.
Deep down, I understood the gravity of what would happen if I dared to meet their gaze. I feared that their lewd comments were just the tip of the iceberg; once they caught a glimpse of my eyes, the innocence they'd once held would vanish in an instant, replaced by a painful knowing that would haunt me.
I would have bolted for the door without a second thought if I hadn't had a firm grip on my memories of why I was in that unsettling place. The idea of escaping crossed my mind repeatedly, but the hefty paycheck that had lured me into this nightmare kept me rooted in place. I desperately needed the money, so here I was, forcing myself to endure what felt like pure hell.
Naeun, with her calm demeanor, tried to reassure me, saying, "You will get used to it and become immune. Trust me." She patted my back, a gesture meant to comfort me, but it only heightened my anxiety. Without warning, she grabbed my arm firmly, guiding me deeper into the unsettling atmosphere surrounding us.
"What is that for?" I managed to ask in a near whisper, my gaze fixated on the syringe she clenched tight in her hand. Its presence sent a chill down my spine, and I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that whatever was coming next would change everything.
I cast a tentative smile in her direction, though it felt like an immense effort, as if I were lifting a heavy weight. The oppressive atmosphere of the place was draining, and it had only been a mere ten minutes since we had entered this eerie environment.
"This is for our special prisoner. The one you'll take care of from now on," she said, her tone laced with a teasing undertone. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned closer, and the wink she directed at me made my heart race. I couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and anxiety as my head snapped up, my lips parting slightly in awe at her playful demeanor. It was clear she was reveling in this moment.
"Why? What do you mean by 'special'?" I asked, my voice quivering slightly. I felt a shiver run down my spine and struggled to maintain my composure. To steady myself, I pressed my hands against the fabric of my black over-knee skirt, willing the tremors to subside. The atmosphere felt charged, and I couldn't shake the sensation of being on the precipice of something far beyond my understanding.
I wasn't a scaredy cat, alright? That specific moment was an exception. So don't you dare call me names?
She turned slightly toward me as we descended the dimly lit corridor. I followed her gaze to where something-perhaps someone-was isolated at the far end, away from the other prisoners. The air felt thick with tension, a silent understanding passing between us.
Come one Y/N. Get your shit together. I don't recognize you.
I brought a hand over the back of my head and started to massage the area with my fingers, trying to calm my nerves.
"We're in the dark about it all," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "No one has bothered to explain why he's been brought here. All we know is that he arrived alone six years ago, and there's a warning we've all heard: he will become a danger to himself and others if we discontinue the drug regimen. So, our only course of action is to keep him sedated. His brain is damaged beyond repair."
I couldn't help but wonder if his brain was indeed damaged, then why were they continuing to administer drugs? It seemed paradoxical. Wouldn't exploring other options and trying something different make more sense? My mind raced with questions that remained unanswered in the chilling silence of that place.
She shot me a curious and cautious glance, her eyebrow arching in a way that hinted at suspicion. I sensed her keen observation as if she weighed my actions against uncertainty. The soft shuffle of my footsteps echoed as I walked a few paces behind her, and I couldn't shake the feeling that she was gauging the likelihood of my escape. Would I make a break for it the moment her attention wavered? The thought flickered through my mind, but I remained where I was, caught in the charged atmosphere of the moment.
She fell silent, her words evaporating into the air as we stopped in front of the cell. All her attention shifted to it, and mine followed suit, an undeniable gravity pulling my gaze toward the heavy iron door.
It felt like the world around us had reached a complete standstill. My heart raced as I caught sight of him.
He was so impossibly young. Sitting on the edge of a narrow bed, he seemed almost fragile, his slight frame barely visible in the dim light that barely penetrated the gloom of the cell. His gaze was fixed on the cold concrete floor, his expression vacant, as if he were lost in his world, far removed from the reality surrounding him.
But this couldn't be right. How could he have been here since childhood? It was unfathomable. What kind of danger could a child indeed pose? The question lingered in my mind, mixing confusion with an unsettling sense of certainty.
"Jungkook... It's time for your medicine," Naeun said in a steady voice, her tone crisp and authoritative. Then she softened her demethat anor, adding, "Come here."
I stood there, momentarily dumbfounded, my heart racing with confusion. Would she not open the door? My gaze shifted back to the boy behind the bars, and my breath caught in my throat. He stood still there, his dark eyes fixed on me-cold, empty, yet strikingly beautiful. Despite his youth, there was an unsettling depth to his gaze that seemed to pierce through any barriers, reaching straight into my soul.
If I remember that day, I guess your eyes won my heart since that moment. Isn't that something you should be proud of?
He appeared so fragile, almost ethereal, and I felt an overwhelming urge to shield him from whatever darkness surrounded him. But beneath that instinct was a deep-seated terror. Why was he here? How could such a child end up in a place as grim as this, willingly locking himself away? The questions flooded my mind, but the most pressing ones were about his family. Were they? Did he even have parents to speak of?
Naeun was meticulous as she prepared the injection; her movements were practiced and efficient. Under the weight of her presence, I felt paralyzed, my wide eyes and parted lips betraying my astonishment. The boy tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering, as she pressed the needle into the soft skin of his neck. Our stares remained locked; it was as if we were two souls desperately trying to connect, to seek answers in each other's eyes.
What was he feeling, I wondered. He felt more like a marionette than a living being. There was no flicker of emotion on his face, not even a blink as the sharp needle pierced his flesh. Then, as if a light had been extinguished, his eyes faded into a vacant stare, leaving only an echo of despair reverberating in my stomach.
"Well done, Kookie. Such a good boy you are," Naeun cooed, her voice dripping with false warmth. As she removed the syringe, her hand grazed his head, fingers weaving through his silken brown hair with an unnerving gentleness.
"Now look here," she continued, her tone shifting slightly to a more instructive one. "This is Y/N. She will take care of you from now on." She leaned in closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially as she added, "You remember what happened with the last girl who cared for you, right? We had to bring someone else to take her place."
A wave of suspicion washed over me, my eyebrows knitting together in concern. I couldn't help but wonder what she meant. What girl? What terrible thing had happened? Did he do something to her? The implications swirled darkly in my mind, and I involuntarily shivered. I was scared-terrified. All I wanted was to escape to the safety of my home, to lock myself away in my room where the world couldn't reach me.
Then Naeun reached out, taking my hand and placing a cold, metallic key into my palm. "This is the key for this cell," she instructed, her voice firm. "You can enter only when you need to clean his cell, change him or give him his medicine. But remember, before you do, you must notify one of the guards. Jungkook will have to be restrained with chains."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. "Don't forget that, Y/N," she warned, a chilling seriousness in her eyes that left no room for error.
Of course I understand, but... Rules are made to be broken in the end.
Damn, I am so nervous. This story was first published on wattpad and has really good feedback. Here I can't help but feel nervous though. I hope you will give it a try, I worked really hard on it and tried to make it as interesting as possible. I hope you will fell in love with the characters.
English isn't my first language so please be easy on me ?
How old is he? I recalled asking Naeun, my hand instinctively rising to grasp the cage's cold, unyielding metal bars. Behind them, Jungkook lay sprawled in a peaceful slumber, his chest's soft rise and fall bringing a warm smile to my face. His presence was both calming and unsettling, evoking a strange mix of emotions within me.
Twenty years old, Naeun replied, her voice steady yet laced with an undercurrent of sadness that made my heart ache. The weight of her tone suggested a history I could barely fathom.
I gazed down at Jungkook, taking in the tranquility that wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, contrasting sharply with the harshness of his surroundings."So, he was just fourteen when he arrived here alone?"I pondered aloud, a wave of empathy washing over me for the boy who had faced formidable challenges at such a tender age.
Yes, it seems that way, she confirmed, her eyes flickering uneasily between my face and Jungkook's, revealing a deep well of concern and compassion that resonated with my feelings.
He's younger than me, I thought, tightening my grip on the white shirt cradled in my hands. The fabric felt soft against my palms, but the thought of Jungkook in his current state filled me with an unsettling sadness.
What about his family? I ventured, hoping to uncover more about his past.
No one came to visit him. I guess he has no one, Naeun answered, her voice barely a whisper as if she was afraid to discuss the painful reality.
Or maybe they don't know where he is? The thought lingered in my mind, twisting my gut with sorrow and frustration.
Those piercing eyes, so vivid and intense, haunted my thoughts. How he looked at me during our first encounter felt surreal; it was as if he could see right through me, peering into the innermost corners of my mind. I was left wondering if, for just a fleeting instant, he had been aware of his surroundings before Naeun administered that drug to him. She had warned me not to delay the next dose, saying that if I did, things would only deteriorate. What had she meant by that?
"Ready?" The red-headed guard assigned to assist me on my first day greeted me with a warm smile, but the warmth felt laced with an unsettling tension before he took the key from my trembling fingers and unlocked the heavy cell door.
He stepped inside first, pushing the door open wider as he waited for me to follow him. My heart raced as I crossed the threshold, reminded of the task ahead. I needed to change Jungkook's shirt; his body was drenched in sweat from the relentless serum injected into him, necessitating a change of clothing twice daily. Additionally, I had to introduce the very serum into his bloodstream at dawn and dusk. The weight of responsibility felt heavy on my shoulders, stirring a cocktail of conflicting emotions within me. Why did I have to have such a weak heart?
As I entered the dimly lit cell, the atmosphere was tense. I knew handcuffs couldn't be used while changing his clothes, so the guards opted for a more secure method. They fitted a sturdy collar around his neck, attaching it to a chain that led to a heavy leather belt cinched tightly around his waist. The guard, vigilant and focused, grasped the two chains connected to the belt, ensuring they were taut and secure while we waited for the clotting process to conclude.
For my safety, he needed to exercise caution, remaining alert to any sudden movements or unpredictable behavior from Jungkook. However, despite the precautions in place, Jungkook remained eerily still. Since we first stepped inside the confined space of the cell, he hadn't shifted his weight or shown any signs of agitation; he climbed off the bed, his posture rigid and unyielding, as if he were a statue contemplating the silence surrounding him. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation as I wondered what thoughts might be spiraling in his mind.
"Hi, Jungkook. I came to change your shirt," I said softly, smiling. Our eyes met, and an unspoken understanding passed between us. Did he know what was coming? Was he aware of the distorted reality he was trapped in?
As I approached him, my steps faltered with uncertainty; I hesitated before lifting my hands to grasp the bottom hem of his shirt. I couldn't shake the trepidation that clung to me like a shadow. I had never been this close to someone like him—a criminal, a boy embroiled in a dark world. I had no idea why they had hired me, a 22-year-old girl devoid of experience, to undertake this daunting task.
My heart pounded furiously as I slowly lifted his shirt, my fingers brushing against his warm, toned skin. Despite the circumstances, I was struck by how well-defined his muscles were. I had heard rumors that he maintained his physique even when he wasn't sedated. It was both mesmerizing and daunting to be this close to him. The guard's presence only added an awkward layer to the experience; I felt exposed, like a raw nerve, and desperately wanted to retreat to a place of safety.
Jungkook lifted his arms cooperatively as I removed his shirt, his eyes fixed on me, unfathomably deep and unreadable. I couldn't help but feel captivated by the sight before me. He was stunning, undeniably attractive—the sort of beauty that could bewilder anyone. In that instant, the gravity of my situation faded, and the world outside this cage felt distant.
But he was dangerous. I had to remind myself of that repeatedly as the thrill of being so close to him threatened to cloud my judgment.
With adrenaline rushing through me, I hastily dressed him in the clean, white shirt, almost desperate to escape the intimate moment. My clumsiness echoed in the stillness, drawing a chuckle from the red-headed guard. I shot him a glance, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment.
"The last girl had the same look every time she came here," he said, laughter dancing in his voice before his expression transformed into a knowing smile.
"The look of a girl in heat," he added, a smirk stretching across his lips as he observed my reaction.
Heat? My mind raced with confusion and anger.
"It didn't end very well the last time, though. Sometimes love can be terrifying," he said, glancing over at Jungkook as his voice dropped an octave, thick with implication.
I could feel my cheeks burning. Was I looking at him that way? But heat? How dare he think he could categorize my feelings so dismissively! I shot him a glare, but his smirk only widened, with no hint of shame, as his gaze roamed over me, analyzing every detail with unabashed curiosity.
You have to be kidding me.
"You..." I began, ready to unleash my frustration, but he quickly cut me off.
"Kim Taehyung is the name."
Well... Kim Taehyung. After you've been off gallivanting, can you at least wash your mouth out? Because, honestly, it still reeks," I mumbled under my breath, trying to focus as I prepared the syringe, the metal gleaming under the fluorescent lights.
I glanced over at Taehyung, whose expression was annoyed and defiant. "And by the way? That collar around his neck is kind of unnecessary. Can you free him already? He doesn't belong here with us. He doesn't seem that menacing, do you think? So, what's the point of all this restraint?" I challenged, my voice rising slightly.
"I am doing my job. You focus on yours," he replied, gritting his teeth, irritation evident in his tone.
---
I let out a soft hiss of frustration, muttering a curse. Defeated, I sighed and redirected my attention back to Jungkook, who stood before me like an immovable statue. His presence was striking, making it hard to concentrate on the task. My cold fingers brushed against the warm skin of his neck, and as my pulse quickened, I stepped closer, positioning the needle just below the collar that constrained him.
My fingertips could feel the steady rhythm of his pulse, a tangible reminder of his vitality. A blush crept up my cheeks, betraying my thoughts as I allowed my gaze to wander over the flawless contours of his face. Too close, I reminded myself, but it wasn't easy to pull away. My eyes were fascinated by his rich, brown hair; I suddenly fought the urge to weave my fingers through those silky strands.
As I scrutinized every perfect detail of his features, my gaze lingered longer than necessary on his lower lip, plump and inviting, contrasting with his delicate, thinner upper lip. I was so engrossed in the mesmerizing details that I temporarily forgot the sterile needle I had just inserted into his neck.
A wave of discomfort began to wash over me, settling deep within my chest. It wasn't just unease; guilt seeped into my thoughts, heavy and persistent. I could feel a nagging sensation growing stronger, emerging from the depths of my conscience. It was as if a weight had anchored itself inside me, amplifying my sense of responsibility and remorse for something I couldn't define. Each passing moment made the feeling more acute, leaving me restless and troubled. It was him.
Even though he possessed an undeniable beauty that captivated everyone around him, I couldn't shake the guilt of staring at him so intently. His striking features, the light that caught his eyes, and the effortless grace in his movements mesmerized me, yet I felt a nagging discomfort for indulging in my admiration too freely.
Of course, I completely overlooked Taehyung, who stood silently observing the scene with raised eyebrows and an incredulous shake of his head. I caught a glimpse of him from the corner of my eye, but my attention was still fixated on Jungkook. As I began to administer the drug, I felt a thrill between knowing I was breaking some unseen rules and a sense of pride in my closeness to him.
With a playful smirk dancing on my lips, I bit down on my lip piercing, my eyes locking onto Taehyung's. "Well, it can't be helped; this guy over here is far too tempting compared to the rest," I teased, emphasizing my words with a wink before turning on my heel to leave the room.
As I walked away, I could sense Taehyung's reaction—his lips parted in surprise, his heart racing for unspoken reasons.
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