Killer, Liar, Lover
PROLOGUE
Title: Killer, Liar, Lover.
Genre: Angst, dark, romance.
Rating: NC-17.
WARNING: Language, gore, bloody scenes, mentions of rape.
Pairing: Hanchul and more pairings in the future.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to no one but themselves, and I own only my writings.
Summary: Will he do anything and everything for his freedom? He doubts when he met him...
---
This was it, Kim Heechul knew Death was near, it had always been and this time, he was going to be beaten to death- a predicted cause of his death. He expected it since the men came to take him away from the orphanage.
Before he was brought to the old weary warehouse which was also their hideout, he was at the small slope near the lake where his trailer was situated at, the stars looked exceptionally bright against the pitch black night sky. He didn’t even need to squint to find where Big Dipper was, or to realize anywhere far away from the city would be a great place to gaze at the beautiful stars.
Out of nowhere, a loud nauseating laugh boomed from right above him, he quickly got onto his knees, ready to flee but he was caught by the arms by two buff men. He wanted to get up but one of the men’s reflexes was faster than usual because he struck one foot behind the captured man’s knees, instantly buckling him back down on the ground, biting back the sudden jolt of pain.
The loud man who had the most nauseating laugh neared the boy held captive, a revolting smile on his face. He nodded at one of the men behind and instantly, he grabbed one handful of the Heechul’s hair, yanked him up to look at the supposed right hand man of the big boss currently, being handed the task to whisk Heechul back to the hideout.
“Wouldn’t want to scar that pretty face of yours, right?” the man said and patted Heechul’s flawless face. He flinched away but was forcefully pulled back to face the bosses’ right hand man’s face, “You’re coming back with us, the boss wants to see you…before we kill you.”
Heechul spat right at the man once his filthy hand left his chin. There was a distinctive clear sound of a slap that landed on his face, the ring the man wore made a cut on his cheek, it was bleeding alright, he knew the smell of blood, he grew up smelling it. The tingle in his ear from the impact and the pulsating pain on his cheek, those were bearable but he couldn’t stand being touched by those men he loathed.
“Don’t move! You’re going to pay for your dead parents’ debt!” a man growled, pinning down the boy onto the thin mattress. The beast hungrily pulled off the boy’s pants, the boy he took from the orphanage, unbuckling his own as well. The boy couldn’t do anything but cry and moan in agony every time every night. He got used to the pain but it was impossible to stifle the moans and the tears which only stimulated the old man even more.
When Heechul started resisting, it only got worse; he would be handcuffed or tied up.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Heechul hissed.
At one point, after two months, the boss got shot at the waist and was half paralyzed, it stopped. But the nightmare was already a part of Heechul…
“Shit!” the man cursed when he saw the cut he made on the male's face, his boss wouldn’t let go of him, there was a specific rule of not scathing the male’s face. He waved his hand at one swift moment as he turned and headed to the van parked by the road. The two men dragged Heechul up and into the van. The tires screeched as the van revved out of the sideways and to the warehouse.
He was brought to the metal table at the far end of the huge warehouse, right under the only light in the place. The place reeked; a mixture of salt, sand, alcohol and cigarettes. It had been three weeks since he last went to the hell-hole. He was going to die there, in his nightmare, just like how he wished he’d die already when was first brought there. He could see the door that led to the room he was…imprisoned in.
“My beautiful Heechul-ah…” The old man said, upon approached. The two men instantly released their flesh-digging grips before retreating into the unlighted area of the space. Though no one was speaking, Heechul could still hear the shuffles of feet and see the horrid expressions on faces illuminated by the light, some smug faces, emotionless, curious while his own was partially covered by his hair.
“Come here…” Heechul did not move one step and in a split second, he was on all fours in front of a wheelchair. The old man bent down and lifted Heechul’s chin. Heechul glared at no one in particular but he was avoiding eye contact with everyone. His hands were trembling; he gripped it as hard as he could until his knuckles turned white.
“Who did it?!” the old man exploded, causing a stir amongst the countless number of his men. Heechul and the three men involved knew better than anyone there what was going on; it was the cut on Heechul’s face that angered the old man. Besides doing Heechul, the old man was obsessed with Heechul’s beautiful face, milky white skin and full lips. That was what the old bastard claimed his own, Heechul’s beautiful face.
The man who was all cocky and loud just moments ago, turned up, head ducked down, shoulders slumped, he was a dog, awaiting the punishment from his owner. “I-It was an a-accident…”
Then it was silent and Heechul knew what was going to happen to the man, the same fate as himself, he was going to die. A wave from the old man’s hand and the man was dragged away, screaming, “It w-was an accident!!!” Soon his voice was muffled and then a car drove off. They were smart; they wouldn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention to their hideout. A corpse would turn up far away eventually, of the man, for sure. Heechul wondered where his would end up at.
“So…you…” the masochistic old man rubbed off the already dried blood with his thumb, it caused only more pain to Heechul. Of course he didn’t let out any voice; pain was nothing to him already, he was numb from it, “How was your three weeks break?”
Silence.
“I had the opportunity to train some of the new recruits during your absence…” he said, leaning back comfortably in his wheelchair. Heechul glared at the old man through his bangs. Three young males stepped out from behind and into the light, right behind the wheelchair. One looked really delicate and unscathed, Heechul knew, that was the new toy of the old man, he had the milky white skin like himself but he also knew, the toy wouldn’t be for long, nothing would happen to that kid, Heechul was the boss’ last playable‘toy’.
Right after the boss’ accident, Heechul was no longer locked in the small room, he was ordered to follow the more experienced gangster members; he followed them to collect debts, burn down houses, jacking cars, beating up those who wouldn’t pay and also to kill people. Every time Heechul refused to do it, he would get beaten up, disappear for a few days so that the wounds on his face recover and then reappear in front of the boss. He lost count how many times he got himself a bruised rib, bloodied face and broken bones during the three years period.
“They aren’t as good as you of course, but there’s something I want you to do, in exchange of…your freedom…”
He was going to do it, regardless of what it was…
---
A/N: I don’t know why but all my fictions need to have at least a little revenge. Love is of course a must, what’s a fiction without love, no matter what kind of love. Anticipate more of this please :)
Title: Killer, Liar, Lover.
Genre: Angst, dark, romance.
Rating: NC-17.
WARNING: Language, gore, bloody scenes, mentions of rape.
Pairing: Hanchul and more pairings in the future.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to no one but themselves, and I own only my writings.
Summary: Will he do anything and everything for his freedom? He doubts when he met him...
---
This was it, Kim Heechul knew Death was near, it had always been and this time, he was going to be beaten to death- a predicted cause of his death. He expected it since the men came to take him away from the orphanage.
Before he was brought to the old weary warehouse which was also their hideout, he was at the small slope near the lake where his trailer was situated at, the stars looked exceptionally bright against the pitch black night sky. He didn’t even need to squint to find where Big Dipper was, or to realize anywhere far away from the city would be a great place to gaze at the beautiful stars.
Out of nowhere, a loud nauseating laugh boomed from right above him, he quickly got onto his knees, ready to flee but he was caught by the arms by two buff men. He wanted to get up but one of the men’s reflexes was faster than usual because he struck one foot behind the captured man’s knees, instantly buckling him back down on the ground, biting back the sudden jolt of pain.
The loud man who had the most nauseating laugh neared the boy held captive, a revolting smile on his face. He nodded at one of the men behind and instantly, he grabbed one handful of the Heechul’s hair, yanked him up to look at the supposed right hand man of the big boss currently, being handed the task to whisk Heechul back to the hideout.
“Wouldn’t want to scar that pretty face of yours, right?” the man said and patted Heechul’s flawless face. He flinched away but was forcefully pulled back to face the bosses’ right hand man’s face, “You’re coming back with us, the boss wants to see you…before we kill you.”
Heechul spat right at the man once his filthy hand left his chin. There was a distinctive clear sound of a slap that landed on his face, the ring the man wore made a cut on his cheek, it was bleeding alright, he knew the smell of blood, he grew up smelling it. The tingle in his ear from the impact and the pulsating pain on his cheek, those were bearable but he couldn’t stand being touched by those men he loathed.
“Don’t move! You’re going to pay for your dead parents’ debt!” a man growled, pinning down the boy onto the thin mattress. The beast hungrily pulled off the boy’s pants, the boy he took from the orphanage, unbuckling his own as well. The boy couldn’t do anything but cry and moan in agony every time every night. He got used to the pain but it was impossible to stifle the moans and the tears which only stimulated the old man even more.
When Heechul started resisting, it only got worse; he would be handcuffed or tied up.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” Heechul hissed.
At one point, after two months, the boss got shot at the waist and was half paralyzed, it stopped. But the nightmare was already a part of Heechul…
“Shit!” the man cursed when he saw the cut he made on the male's face, his boss wouldn’t let go of him, there was a specific rule of not scathing the male’s face. He waved his hand at one swift moment as he turned and headed to the van parked by the road. The two men dragged Heechul up and into the van. The tires screeched as the van revved out of the sideways and to the warehouse.
He was brought to the metal table at the far end of the huge warehouse, right under the only light in the place. The place reeked; a mixture of salt, sand, alcohol and cigarettes. It had been three weeks since he last went to the hell-hole. He was going to die there, in his nightmare, just like how he wished he’d die already when was first brought there. He could see the door that led to the room he was…imprisoned in.
“My beautiful Heechul-ah…” The old man said, upon approached. The two men instantly released their flesh-digging grips before retreating into the unlighted area of the space. Though no one was speaking, Heechul could still hear the shuffles of feet and see the horrid expressions on faces illuminated by the light, some smug faces, emotionless, curious while his own was partially covered by his hair.
“Come here…” Heechul did not move one step and in a split second, he was on all fours in front of a wheelchair. The old man bent down and lifted Heechul’s chin. Heechul glared at no one in particular but he was avoiding eye contact with everyone. His hands were trembling; he gripped it as hard as he could until his knuckles turned white.
“Who did it?!” the old man exploded, causing a stir amongst the countless number of his men. Heechul and the three men involved knew better than anyone there what was going on; it was the cut on Heechul’s face that angered the old man. Besides doing Heechul, the old man was obsessed with Heechul’s beautiful face, milky white skin and full lips. That was what the old bastard claimed his own, Heechul’s beautiful face.
The man who was all cocky and loud just moments ago, turned up, head ducked down, shoulders slumped, he was a dog, awaiting the punishment from his owner. “I-It was an a-accident…”
Then it was silent and Heechul knew what was going to happen to the man, the same fate as himself, he was going to die. A wave from the old man’s hand and the man was dragged away, screaming, “It w-was an accident!!!” Soon his voice was muffled and then a car drove off. They were smart; they wouldn’t want to attract any unnecessary attention to their hideout. A corpse would turn up far away eventually, of the man, for sure. Heechul wondered where his would end up at.
“So…you…” the masochistic old man rubbed off the already dried blood with his thumb, it caused only more pain to Heechul. Of course he didn’t let out any voice; pain was nothing to him already, he was numb from it, “How was your three weeks break?”
Silence.
“I had the opportunity to train some of the new recruits during your absence…” he said, leaning back comfortably in his wheelchair. Heechul glared at the old man through his bangs. Three young males stepped out from behind and into the light, right behind the wheelchair. One looked really delicate and unscathed, Heechul knew, that was the new toy of the old man, he had the milky white skin like himself but he also knew, the toy wouldn’t be for long, nothing would happen to that kid, Heechul was the boss’ last playable‘toy’.
Right after the boss’ accident, Heechul was no longer locked in the small room, he was ordered to follow the more experienced gangster members; he followed them to collect debts, burn down houses, jacking cars, beating up those who wouldn’t pay and also to kill people. Every time Heechul refused to do it, he would get beaten up, disappear for a few days so that the wounds on his face recover and then reappear in front of the boss. He lost count how many times he got himself a bruised rib, bloodied face and broken bones during the three years period.
“They aren’t as good as you of course, but there’s something I want you to do, in exchange of…your freedom…”
He was going to do it, regardless of what it was…
---
A/N: I don’t know why but all my fictions need to have at least a little revenge. Love is of course a must, what’s a fiction without love, no matter what kind of love. Anticipate more of this please :)