PRISONERS (9/?)
Title: Prisoners (9/?)
Author: qrn
Pairing: OT6
Rating: M (Mature), for sexual & violent themes
Summary: Each of them has their own problems that may just be too hard to cure.
Author's Notes: My slowest post to date... sorry guys, I had a lot of things to do these past few days =.= I'm really grateful to you all for being patient and understanding~ Anyway... did I SURPRISE you all? It's not Hyunseung's POV, but Yoseob's! ^^ On the other hand, Mr. Yoo's character is becoming more evil & annoying; I was so tempted to just kill him off, but obviously I couldn't (although some of you have been pressuring me to do so)! Things are getting more interesting from here on, so I hope you guys don't kill me over the overly depressing & disturbing content >.< Feedbacks & comments are welcome, as always ^^ Enjoy!
9. YOSEOB
I wanted to stop him.
"Take him too."
I wanted to stop him from taking him away from me, but I couldn't.
Doojoonie.
My body stiffened, and I could feel my arms and legs go numb as I witnessed the horrifying scene take place before my very eyes.
Don't, I wanted to say. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
I saw Kikwang's hands shaking, his face pale with fear.
He's doing it again.
"What are they..." Hyunseung's voice trailed off weakly, his eyes following Doojoon and Junhyung, who were being carried forcefully to the next room.
Mr. Yoo smiled at the three of us. "Don't worry," he said in a somehow light manner. "They'll be fine."
Fine?
"Can I ask something?" Something had been bugging my curiosity for a while.
"Anything," he said.
"Why do people refer to us as 'Room Eleven'?"
He raised his eyebrows, as if he didn't expect that question. "It's just merely a number," he explained. "There's nothing odd about it."
He's avoiding a direct answer, I concluded.
"But they all said bad things happen to people who are assigned to that room," Hyunseung added. It seemed as if he also couldn't stand the mysteriously strange behaviors other people would exhibit when they heard that we were from Room Eleven.
"What bad things?" Mr. Yoo asked, fixing his intense stare at us. For a moment, I thought his face stiffened--as if it was a secret we weren't supposed to know.
There's definitely something they're hiding from us.
"About this therapy," Hyunseung continued. "This experiment." He placed a strong emphasis on the word.
I nodded in agreement. People act weird everytime we mention it.
Suddenly Mr. Yoo laughed (we didn't see anything worth laughing for). "I don't know what they're so worried about. It's basically just like any other therapies to help you recover from your traumatic experiences."
He's trying to convince us everything is fine and normal when we know it's not.
"As I've said before, we're here to help you."
Help? I sensed something dark and dangerous waiting behind the door.
"And we'll do whatever it takes."
When he said 'whatever', I felt uneasy for some reason.
"How were we chosen?" I asked. "I mean, the assigning of the rooms."
"Impartial lottery," he replied in a casual tone.
What?
Suddenly a loud shriek was heard from next door.
I felt my heart stop beating for a second.
Hyunseung stood up in alarm, with Kikwang clutching onto him (being the clingy weakling he was). "What happened?"
What the hell is going on in that room?
Suddenly frightening images began running through my mind. What if they were being tortured with scary devices like that Saw movie? Or I shuddered at the thought, since anything was possible at this stage. Moreover, I couldn't recognize the voice; it could've been Doojoon, Junhyung, or Dongwoon. What if they...
Doojoonie.
"What did you do to them?" I yelled in panic. If they did anything to Doojoon ad Dongwoon, I--
"It's just part of the procedure," Mr. Yoo said. "Relax." As soon after he said that, it died down and there was silence. "See? Nothing dangerous."
Hyunseung stared at him skeptically, but didn't comment further. I had no choice but to shut up, too.
"Yang Yoseob," he said. "Would you like to join the therapy next door, too?"
Why should I? I crossed my arms stubbornly. "I don't have any problems."
He raised his eyebrows, then chuckled.
What's so funny?
"Oh, that's not what your parents told me."
Mom and Dad?
"What did they say?" I asked, suddenly standing up. My eyes eyed the file in his hands eagerly. They keep saying I have problems...
"Yang Yoseob, born on January 5, 1990, in Seoul. According to what's stated here, you had poor academic records and failed to enter the prestigious high school of your parents' choice."
I swallowed, hard.
They hated me for that.
"Subsequently, you attended a local public school where you the teachers described you as an 'average student'. Despite being hardworking, you weren't involved in any particular clubs or activities."
I wasn't a bright kid for sure.
"And in Grade 11, you got involved in a fight with a classmate, which resulted in you getting suspended for a period of two weeks. The other student suffered from broken arms and scratches, and eventually your parents had to go apologize to his family directly."
I clenched my fist as memories of that incident began replaying slowly in my head.
He deserved it.
"I can't believe this!"
I ran back to the group slowly, carrying the basketball under one arm. The others were staring at me in resentment.
"We freakin' lost 26-5!" he yelled, flabbergasted. "I don't even know why stupid Coach Joonhyung put you in our team when you can't play for shit. You ruined the entire game!"
I looked away to avoid seeing his face. "I'm... sorry."
"You're not good in any sports!" He threw his hands in exasperation. "In fact, you're not good in anything at all." He walked over to me, placing his arms on his hips arrogantly.
I bit my lip.
"I'm so sick of seeing you in class, sucking up to the teachers and all," he taunted. "I guess you're that desperate for attention, huh?"
I kept my eyes on the ground, and I saw a glimpse of a beetle. I crushed it without lifting my foot.
"We shouldn't have let him play."
"That was a terrible game."
"Seungri is right--that loser fails in practically everything."
"What an attention-seeker."
"No wonder people always ignore him."
I shut my eyes, but I could still hear the whispers.
"You're so useless," he added with a mocking tone. "You can never do anything right."
He started pushing me with one hand, and I held tightly onto the basketball.
And he said those words.
"I wish you'd never existed!"
I lost it.
"He deserved it," I heard myself say.
"On the other hand," Mr. Yoo said, an amused smirk playing on his mouth. "Your sister Haeyeon was reported to be a model student."
Not her again.
"In fact, your parents seemed to be very fond talking about her--especially how she graduated with perfect academic records from Chunhyang Private School."
Stop talking about her!
"Don't talk about her," I said bitterly, through gritted teeth. My head started to hurt again, just like on that day.
Mr. Yoo stared at me. "Looks like we need to bring you next door."
"No!" I cried. No way. "You don't even know anything bout me!"
Why was I shouting?
"I know more than enough to let you go through with this," he said, shaking his head. "Your parents gave me the consent."
"Is this your daughter?" the lady asked.
Mom grinned. "Yes." She placed a hand on my sister's shoulders. "This is our Haeyeon."
"She's so beautiful, as I expected," the lady gushed. "Not to mention smart and popular, too."
Haeyeon nodded humbly (I bet it was only an act). "Thank you."
Dad was beaming. "Well, yes, we couldn't be more proud of her," he said in that tone which he never used when talking about me.
I was hiding behind the living room door. This lady was supposedly Dad's client, but it seemed as if she was more curious about my goody-two-shoes sister.
"I heard she was recently appointed Student Body President."
"Yes, she was," Dad nodded in satisfaction.
I tried to conceal my presence, but unfortunately the lady spotted me.
"Your son...?" she hesitated, motioning towards me.
I saw Mom and Dad's faces turn grim.
"That's Yoseob," Mom said flatly.
I felt a sharp pain.
"Does he go to Chunhyang as well...?"
Dad refused to look at me while answering, "No."
"Oh." The lady seemed to notice the tense atmosphere (judging from my parents' expressions and the somber tone), so she didn't press about me further. "Anyways, I wished my daughter could be like Haeyeon."
I held my breath as I watched Mom and Dads' lips curve into smiles.
They really hate me, don't they?
"You poor kid," Mr. Yoo said with a sigh. "All you wanted was attention."
They never looked at me.
"And yet you had none," he continued.
Just once, I...
"Instead, they showered your sister with all the love and affection."
My heart was pounding.
"Don't you just wish..." his voice lowered. "...that you'd never been born?"
She was standing there, holding up the sheet of paper.
"What's this?" she said, a haughty look on her face.
I widened my eyes in anger. I couldn't believe what I heard--she was rummaging through my room. "You went through my stuff?" I cried in disbelief.
"I wanted to borrow your iPod." She held up her chin arrogantly. "But I found this in your drawer instead."
I was panicked--not because she invaded my privacy (I didn't collect anything illegal in my room, really), but because of the big '15' splashed across the paper in red ink.
"It says 'Mid-semester test' on the top of the page," she smirked. "I wonder what Mom and Dad will say if they find out about this."
"No!" I tried to snatch the paper away, but she swiftly hid it behind her back.
"I think I'd like to see their reaction," she mocked. "It'll be fun, won't it?"
"No!" I was breaking out in a cold sweat. "No--please, don't!"
"What should I do~" she said in a sing-song voice, playing around with the sheet in her hand.
I shook my head. "Please..." Before I knew it, I started to plead and beg.
She looked at me in disgust. "You really are useless."
"Please." I must've sounded so pathetic then.
Those hateful eyes were digging holes in my soul.
"You should've never been born into this family."
I felt warm tears trickle down my cheeks.
I wished I'd never been born.
Hyunseung's hand brushed against mine lightly--as if he wanted to give me a sense of comfort--but he pulled back.
"The black sheep of the family."
The unwanted.
I was so weak that I couldn't feel my hands and feet; all I knew was that I kept crying without a sound.
Mr. Yoo looked at the guards, pointing to me. "Take him," he commanded.
Don't do this to me.
I wanted to scream and struggle free, but I could only helplessly watch as the guards grabbed me and dragged me next door.
"I've had enough of this sentimental session," he added, massaging his temple. "Take them, too." He motioned towards Hyunseung and Kikwang.
I saw Hyunseung's startled expression--but before he could defend himself, the rest of the guards already took ahold of his hands. Kikwang (I didn't expect him to fight back) held onto Hyunseung, as if he didn't want them to be separated.
My head was facing down as they let me through the door, and the next thing I heard was some noise and panicked voices.
"They got away!"
"You fools!"
"After them!"
I wanted to turn around, but the darkness that awaited me was nothing I ever expected before.
Author: qrn
Pairing: OT6
Rating: M (Mature), for sexual & violent themes
Summary: Each of them has their own problems that may just be too hard to cure.
Author's Notes: My slowest post to date... sorry guys, I had a lot of things to do these past few days =.= I'm really grateful to you all for being patient and understanding~ Anyway... did I SURPRISE you all? It's not Hyunseung's POV, but Yoseob's! ^^ On the other hand, Mr. Yoo's character is becoming more evil & annoying; I was so tempted to just kill him off, but obviously I couldn't (although some of you have been pressuring me to do so)! Things are getting more interesting from here on, so I hope you guys don't kill me over the overly depressing & disturbing content >.< Feedbacks & comments are welcome, as always ^^ Enjoy!
9. YOSEOB
I wanted to stop him.
"Take him too."
I wanted to stop him from taking him away from me, but I couldn't.
Doojoonie.
My body stiffened, and I could feel my arms and legs go numb as I witnessed the horrifying scene take place before my very eyes.
Don't, I wanted to say. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
I saw Kikwang's hands shaking, his face pale with fear.
He's doing it again.
"What are they..." Hyunseung's voice trailed off weakly, his eyes following Doojoon and Junhyung, who were being carried forcefully to the next room.
Mr. Yoo smiled at the three of us. "Don't worry," he said in a somehow light manner. "They'll be fine."
Fine?
"Can I ask something?" Something had been bugging my curiosity for a while.
"Anything," he said.
"Why do people refer to us as 'Room Eleven'?"
He raised his eyebrows, as if he didn't expect that question. "It's just merely a number," he explained. "There's nothing odd about it."
He's avoiding a direct answer, I concluded.
"But they all said bad things happen to people who are assigned to that room," Hyunseung added. It seemed as if he also couldn't stand the mysteriously strange behaviors other people would exhibit when they heard that we were from Room Eleven.
"What bad things?" Mr. Yoo asked, fixing his intense stare at us. For a moment, I thought his face stiffened--as if it was a secret we weren't supposed to know.
There's definitely something they're hiding from us.
"About this therapy," Hyunseung continued. "This experiment." He placed a strong emphasis on the word.
I nodded in agreement. People act weird everytime we mention it.
Suddenly Mr. Yoo laughed (we didn't see anything worth laughing for). "I don't know what they're so worried about. It's basically just like any other therapies to help you recover from your traumatic experiences."
He's trying to convince us everything is fine and normal when we know it's not.
"As I've said before, we're here to help you."
Help? I sensed something dark and dangerous waiting behind the door.
"And we'll do whatever it takes."
When he said 'whatever', I felt uneasy for some reason.
"How were we chosen?" I asked. "I mean, the assigning of the rooms."
"Impartial lottery," he replied in a casual tone.
What?
Suddenly a loud shriek was heard from next door.
I felt my heart stop beating for a second.
Hyunseung stood up in alarm, with Kikwang clutching onto him (being the clingy weakling he was). "What happened?"
What the hell is going on in that room?
Suddenly frightening images began running through my mind. What if they were being tortured with scary devices like that Saw movie? Or I shuddered at the thought, since anything was possible at this stage. Moreover, I couldn't recognize the voice; it could've been Doojoon, Junhyung, or Dongwoon. What if they...
Doojoonie.
"What did you do to them?" I yelled in panic. If they did anything to Doojoon ad Dongwoon, I--
"It's just part of the procedure," Mr. Yoo said. "Relax." As soon after he said that, it died down and there was silence. "See? Nothing dangerous."
Hyunseung stared at him skeptically, but didn't comment further. I had no choice but to shut up, too.
"Yang Yoseob," he said. "Would you like to join the therapy next door, too?"
Why should I? I crossed my arms stubbornly. "I don't have any problems."
He raised his eyebrows, then chuckled.
What's so funny?
"Oh, that's not what your parents told me."
Mom and Dad?
"What did they say?" I asked, suddenly standing up. My eyes eyed the file in his hands eagerly. They keep saying I have problems...
"Yang Yoseob, born on January 5, 1990, in Seoul. According to what's stated here, you had poor academic records and failed to enter the prestigious high school of your parents' choice."
I swallowed, hard.
They hated me for that.
"Subsequently, you attended a local public school where you the teachers described you as an 'average student'. Despite being hardworking, you weren't involved in any particular clubs or activities."
I wasn't a bright kid for sure.
"And in Grade 11, you got involved in a fight with a classmate, which resulted in you getting suspended for a period of two weeks. The other student suffered from broken arms and scratches, and eventually your parents had to go apologize to his family directly."
I clenched my fist as memories of that incident began replaying slowly in my head.
He deserved it.
"I can't believe this!"
I ran back to the group slowly, carrying the basketball under one arm. The others were staring at me in resentment.
"We freakin' lost 26-5!" he yelled, flabbergasted. "I don't even know why stupid Coach Joonhyung put you in our team when you can't play for shit. You ruined the entire game!"
I looked away to avoid seeing his face. "I'm... sorry."
"You're not good in any sports!" He threw his hands in exasperation. "In fact, you're not good in anything at all." He walked over to me, placing his arms on his hips arrogantly.
I bit my lip.
"I'm so sick of seeing you in class, sucking up to the teachers and all," he taunted. "I guess you're that desperate for attention, huh?"
I kept my eyes on the ground, and I saw a glimpse of a beetle. I crushed it without lifting my foot.
"We shouldn't have let him play."
"That was a terrible game."
"Seungri is right--that loser fails in practically everything."
"What an attention-seeker."
"No wonder people always ignore him."
I shut my eyes, but I could still hear the whispers.
"You're so useless," he added with a mocking tone. "You can never do anything right."
He started pushing me with one hand, and I held tightly onto the basketball.
And he said those words.
"I wish you'd never existed!"
I lost it.
"He deserved it," I heard myself say.
"On the other hand," Mr. Yoo said, an amused smirk playing on his mouth. "Your sister Haeyeon was reported to be a model student."
Not her again.
"In fact, your parents seemed to be very fond talking about her--especially how she graduated with perfect academic records from Chunhyang Private School."
Stop talking about her!
"Don't talk about her," I said bitterly, through gritted teeth. My head started to hurt again, just like on that day.
Mr. Yoo stared at me. "Looks like we need to bring you next door."
"No!" I cried. No way. "You don't even know anything bout me!"
Why was I shouting?
"I know more than enough to let you go through with this," he said, shaking his head. "Your parents gave me the consent."
"Is this your daughter?" the lady asked.
Mom grinned. "Yes." She placed a hand on my sister's shoulders. "This is our Haeyeon."
"She's so beautiful, as I expected," the lady gushed. "Not to mention smart and popular, too."
Haeyeon nodded humbly (I bet it was only an act). "Thank you."
Dad was beaming. "Well, yes, we couldn't be more proud of her," he said in that tone which he never used when talking about me.
I was hiding behind the living room door. This lady was supposedly Dad's client, but it seemed as if she was more curious about my goody-two-shoes sister.
"I heard she was recently appointed Student Body President."
"Yes, she was," Dad nodded in satisfaction.
I tried to conceal my presence, but unfortunately the lady spotted me.
"Your son...?" she hesitated, motioning towards me.
I saw Mom and Dad's faces turn grim.
"That's Yoseob," Mom said flatly.
I felt a sharp pain.
"Does he go to Chunhyang as well...?"
Dad refused to look at me while answering, "No."
"Oh." The lady seemed to notice the tense atmosphere (judging from my parents' expressions and the somber tone), so she didn't press about me further. "Anyways, I wished my daughter could be like Haeyeon."
I held my breath as I watched Mom and Dads' lips curve into smiles.
They really hate me, don't they?
"You poor kid," Mr. Yoo said with a sigh. "All you wanted was attention."
They never looked at me.
"And yet you had none," he continued.
Just once, I...
"Instead, they showered your sister with all the love and affection."
My heart was pounding.
"Don't you just wish..." his voice lowered. "...that you'd never been born?"
She was standing there, holding up the sheet of paper.
"What's this?" she said, a haughty look on her face.
I widened my eyes in anger. I couldn't believe what I heard--she was rummaging through my room. "You went through my stuff?" I cried in disbelief.
"I wanted to borrow your iPod." She held up her chin arrogantly. "But I found this in your drawer instead."
I was panicked--not because she invaded my privacy (I didn't collect anything illegal in my room, really), but because of the big '15' splashed across the paper in red ink.
"It says 'Mid-semester test' on the top of the page," she smirked. "I wonder what Mom and Dad will say if they find out about this."
"No!" I tried to snatch the paper away, but she swiftly hid it behind her back.
"I think I'd like to see their reaction," she mocked. "It'll be fun, won't it?"
"No!" I was breaking out in a cold sweat. "No--please, don't!"
"What should I do~" she said in a sing-song voice, playing around with the sheet in her hand.
I shook my head. "Please..." Before I knew it, I started to plead and beg.
She looked at me in disgust. "You really are useless."
"Please." I must've sounded so pathetic then.
Those hateful eyes were digging holes in my soul.
"You should've never been born into this family."
I felt warm tears trickle down my cheeks.
I wished I'd never been born.
Hyunseung's hand brushed against mine lightly--as if he wanted to give me a sense of comfort--but he pulled back.
"The black sheep of the family."
The unwanted.
I was so weak that I couldn't feel my hands and feet; all I knew was that I kept crying without a sound.
Mr. Yoo looked at the guards, pointing to me. "Take him," he commanded.
Don't do this to me.
I wanted to scream and struggle free, but I could only helplessly watch as the guards grabbed me and dragged me next door.
"I've had enough of this sentimental session," he added, massaging his temple. "Take them, too." He motioned towards Hyunseung and Kikwang.
I saw Hyunseung's startled expression--but before he could defend himself, the rest of the guards already took ahold of his hands. Kikwang (I didn't expect him to fight back) held onto Hyunseung, as if he didn't want them to be separated.
My head was facing down as they let me through the door, and the next thing I heard was some noise and panicked voices.
"They got away!"
"You fools!"
"After them!"
I wanted to turn around, but the darkness that awaited me was nothing I ever expected before.