Things changed after that one fateful day, since then you've been labeled as the 'Toman traitor' and was kicked out of the gang, but the only ones who really knew what happened were the six that were there.
After years of being away you have finall...
*All character endings have nothing to do with what happens in the original storyline, these are all 'what ifs' and 'what could have beens', but will also be taking place as if Y/N didn't attend the final fight.*
ㄒ卄乇 ㄒㄖ爪卂几 ㄒ尺卂丨ㄒㄖ尺
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ㄒ卄乇 ㄒㄖ爪卂几 ㄒ尺卂丨ㄒㄖ尺
[Shadow of Love]
Your head was throbbing in pain.
Vision blurry as you peeled your eyes open, head rolling from one side to the other as it hung limply. Weakly raising your head, you tried to gaze upon your surroundings, but the only source of light came from the small crack under the door across the room.
Trying to move your hands, to get up from whatever you were sitting on, you found that to be impossible. Shackled together by thick metal cuffs, your hands were bound behind you, digging into the skin of your wrists making you let out a quiet whimper in pain.
Panic began to set in, realizing that you had no idea where you were. Heart pounding sporadically as your head whipped back and forth, harshly tugging at your restraints, trying to free yourself.
"N-No..." Along with your hands, your ankles were chained together, confined to the legs of the chair you sat in. Tugging from every possible angle you could, you tried to free yourself, but to no avail you just weren't stronger than the metal of the cuffs. Chair legs wobble beneath you, scratching against the concrete floor the more you struggle. "No no no no no... No!" Your throat was scratchy as you spoke, shoulder hunching the slightest as you broke into a fit of coughs.
Shooting the bitter metallic taste filling your mouth onto the ground in front of you, some of it landing on your lap in warm globs. From your coughs, you could feel an instant shot of pain course through your stomach, the urge to throw up the last thing you ate almost occurring if it weren't for the fact that you were running on no energy, not remembering when the last time you actually ate was.
Your face was scrunched up in pain, only causing the pounding in your head to worsen. Glancing down at where you felt the pain, you could just barely see the outline of a knife sticking out of your stomach. Not one big enough to do some real damage, but not small enough so it wouldn't leave a scar.
Just at the sight of the knife embedded into your body your breathing became rough, chest raising and falling in an unsteady rhythm.
