lee; (moonlightmp3) wrote,

[prologue] motivation is fleeting (but dedication is blind)

series title: blood cultures
pairings: taohun, chankai
word count: 1k
warnings: violence, abduction, organized crime, mentions of blood, guns, and other unsightly things; not for the faint of heart

The young man’s eyes were wide and bulging, shrouded with a terror that made his whole body shake with violent tremors. His sight was fixed onto the pistol pointed at his head, hyperfocused as he stared down its barrel and then to the hand operating it. There were slight calluses there, a nail bitten down to the quick, and he could notice the rubber band snap of his carpels as he pressed his thumb down and then released, contemplating on whether it should pull the trigger. The young man wailed into the gag, silky and expensive fabric pressed astride his tongue and wrapped so tightly around his head he felt like it would burst. Saliva was staining the cloth as well as his tears as they fell liberally from his eyes. The bitter saltiness of them stung and he tried to blink the sensation away several times, his vision becoming hazy and distorted as more tears began to well up. Before it cleared and he could stare in hyper vigilance once more, he felt the butt of the gun connect with his jaw, getting whiplash from the blow. His shout of surprise and pain was muffled by the gag and his bounds kept him from flinching away, completely at the mercy of the two men before him.

The taller one was in possession of the gun now, cocky and sure as he held it in his hands. Sehun stared into his eyes as he delivered another smack, to the other cheek this time, and now both sides of his face matched with a stinging pain that soothed away into a dull ache. Blood came into the mixture, the white silk of his gag becoming heavy with it until he felt a drop slowly make a trail down his chin and fall onto his shirt. Now torn and soiled with a few buttons popped, courtesy of his abduction, his shirt splayed along his now blushed chest, alabaster skin flushed with a gnawing fear. His skin was layered with a light sheen of sweat and yet he was shivering, panting, groaning.

“Agree to the terms or I won’t be so gentle,” the one with a large ego and a matching pair of ears said as he teasingly stroked Sehun’s wound with the pistol, only to deliver the harshest blow yet that made Sehun fall backward onto the wall and writhe in place.

Both of the men snickered as they watched Sehun struggle to return upright and gain some semblance of composure. He looked more like a fish out of water as he wriggled in his bonds, however, his mouth gulping for any bit of air he could muster to breathe in. The room was indeed tiny, claustrophobic even, and it served to steal away all of his breath until he was heaving, smooth chest, now littered in faint drops of blood, rising and falling rapidly.

The tan one spoke next, voice too smooth for Sehun’s liking as he threatened, “There are many ways I could get you to comply, ways I would take pleasure in.”

The ringing in Sehun’s ears would not die down, he could not stop this sensation of falling and not yet hitting the ground even as he clenched his eyes shut and opened them again. He still tried this method in vain and upon opening his eyes for the fourth time, he was met with the sight of the two men bickering, pulling at the cold metal gun between them, trying desperately to gain control of it. Sehun’s heart was pounding so furiously, a thunderous crescendo as it pumped blood to all the parts of his body that now blushed and paled in shock and fear, that he could not make out what their argument entailed. He could only note that their voices were raised and their expressions were angered and neither were directed towards him.

The only thing that was, of course, was the barrel of the gun as a bullet shot from it in the blink of an eye.

There was a loud crack and then nothing.

Breaths were caught in their throats and their hearts stilled for a split second until they thundered on with more fervor than ever before.

The broken, high-pitched wail that Sehun released as he could feel the bits of drywall fall upon his head from where the bullet connected with it sounded through the room, a pitiful little thing. Loud and whiny and high-pitched like he was a damsel from some movie, and he looked like one the way he was tied up so efficiently and stuck in the lavish walk-in closet like some piece of decoration to gawk out. A desperately beautiful little thing, indeed.

The sound of the bullet and the subsequent cries that followed grew a crowd no doubt, and their presence was unwanted by the look on the two gentlemen’s faces. Footsteps approached and Sehun hiccuped, trying to stifle his sobs so he could put all his strength into keeping a close eye on the newcomers who were quickly closing in. The door opened and he held his breath.

“What in all of God’s glorious land are you two brainless fools doing?” bellowed a voice from the entryway of the room, flooding it with light. The way the glow surrounded his head gave him a kind of ethereal quality and Sehun stared at him in rapturous interest, in recognizable discern.

He knew the man before him, knew all too well in fact, and the reasoning behind his seizure was made all too clear now even as his head and vision still fogged.

Obviously, Oh Sehun quickly realized he had messed with the wrong people, for no one fucks with the ineffable Huang Zitao.
Tags: collection: blood cultures, content warnings, mafia au, pairing: chankai, pairing: taohun, rated: r, status: incomplete
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