Vipers in the Lake | BTS Gang x Reader

18. Epiphany

Your Father's voice sliced through the still air, threat lacing each of his words. 

"Give me that phone." He repeated.

You froze, blood rushing from your head to your toes. The sensation was cold, and left you shaking more heavily than before. You turned to face him, drawing the phone from your ear and subtly pressing the 'End Call' button. Your Father's face showed no expression, eyes empty and mouth set in a grim line. He waited, a predator staring down prey as you tried to see if you could get a clear shot to the door. Whoever was listening on the other end of the hair clip must know what was going on now. 

If you could just get out, they would come and get you.

Your Father stood a metre or so inside the room. He kept staring, watching to see what your next move would be. You cast a glance down to the phone in your hand, trying to look as though you were about to give it to him. And then, as quickly as you could, you shot toward the door.

You were quick. 

But he was faster.

Pain exploded along your left side as your Father grabbed your arm, slamming you against the wall beside you. You cried out, phone falling from your weak grasp as you slid to the ground. He picked up the phone in a white-fingered grip and tossed it against the opposite wall. It fell to pieces; metal and plastic and your only method of contact with the others crumbling in front of you.

Your breathing had gone shallow, heat dancing along your rib cage where it made contact with the wall. 

God, I really hope that isn't broken.

Your Father's head tilted as he looked down at you, sprawled against carpet. The only indication that he was angry was the sneer of pure malice twisting his lips. When he spoke, it was in a voice you had never heard before. 

"Look at what you have done to yourself, Y/n." 

The truth in his words hurt the most. In your panic, running back to your bedroom, you had failed to keep quiet. You must have woken him up. He was right. This was your fault.

He reached toward you, heaving you up by a limp arm and began dragging you along the carpet, your feet scrambling for purchase. You were heading toward the office. Digging your heels, you tried to pull away from him, to give yourself another shot at escape, but he was too large and too heavy and too strong, and you could only cry out as he dragged you pitifully behind him.

"Stop fighting, Y/n. It's over." He spat, throwing open the door to his office. You were yanked toward the desk, where he reached for the bottom drawer whilst holding you against the desk with his other hand.

The chloroform.

But.. he doesn't have the key.

In realisation, your Father stood back up to his full height, letting out an exasperated sigh as he tipped his head back. You took the opportunity to land a swift kick to his ankle, shooting around to the other side of the desk. He doubled over, just barely, with a small grunt. His face twisted in disgust as he looked over toward you.

"You little bitch," he spat. "Do you think you can get out of here? Hmm?" Your eyes flitted between where he stood and the door. Could you get there faster than him? You didn't know. He let out a small laugh as he watched you wage the mental battle. "The house is surrounded. You aren't going anywhere that I don't take-"

You didn't stay to hear the end of his little monologue, deciding the risk of getting caught was worth the chance at running. The carpet was rough under your bare feet, and gave you a good grip to propel yourself forward with. As you sped through the house, practically throwing yourself down the stairs, your Father's heavy footsteps were never far behind.