BTS Dark One-Shots {On Hold for Requests}

May God Be With You All [Namjoon]

This was requested by SugaBSwrecker. I hope you like it! Also, keep in mind, who is the real villain in this story . . . ? Happy Reading! <3

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'' This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 a.m., when The Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn.  May God be with you all."

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My hands shook as I pointed little pocket knife I had, blinking a few times to get rid of the tears that dared to break through. My adrenaline was pounding in my chest, daring to break through my lung and through my rib cage. I didn't know what to do. It seemed all so crazy and odd that I couldn't seem to get through.

"Do it," he seethed under the mask. I could imagine him angry, wanting me to kill him. To hurt him. To do something so that he could kill me, but I couldn't. I couldn't do anything. I was stuck in place.

A tear slipped out from the corner of my eye. I wiped it away with my shoulder. I sucked in deep breaths, letting them come out as shaky sighs. What was I going to do? 

"You're weak," he hissed. He took a step towards me with his baseball bat. I couldn't see his eyes underneath the mask. I took a step back in return. "You aren't able to take me on, are you? You've always been like this. Always been a coward in your own shoes. You needed a wake up call like this, didn't you?"

"Please don't do this to me," I squeaked. My hands were starting to slip on the knife, my palms sweaty. I wanted to cry out for someone to help me, but I knew that would only get me into even more trouble. "You know me. You used to like me. Why are you doing this now?"

"You hurt me." He took another step towards me. As I stepped back, my spine hit a wall. My eyes widened. "You did this to yourself, Y/N. You always have been nagging in my mind, telling me all these hurtful things. Now it's time for you to get hurt."

As he grew closer, so did the tip of my knife. I couldn't take it much longer. I placed my hands on the wall behind me, the knife with it. I felt like I couldn't stab him for my own good. I was scared. I always was going to be.

Within each step, he reached up, sliding his mask up over his face. His face was slowly exposed, showing who I once liked. He had a frown on, though, which was terrifying. He had a look of how he would kill me in a blink of an eye, not a second thought to cross his mind.

He quickly closed the gap, his baseball bat and mask falling to the ground, his chest only inches apart from mine. I watched with wide eyes as he took my sweaty hand carefully, the knife within it. He never touched it, though. He just stared at the edge, like he was methodically planning.

"This little tip right here," he said quietly, eyeing the blade, "can dig right into anything it wants to. If I wanted to, I could carve something into you. I could harvest your organs. I can do anything I want to you, and you would have no way of escaping my grasp. How do you feel about this?"

"Namjoon," I squeaked, my body shaking horribly, "please don't do this. I'm begging you."

"How do you feel about this?"

I swallowed down the bile in my throat. "Sick to my stomach."

"Good."

It happened in a fraction of a second. He took my wrist, shoving it towards my stomach. As he had said, the knife's tip dug into my abdomen. I gasped at the feeling, a million and one nerves going off all at once. I wanted to scream, but I was speechless. I turning into shock.

"How does that feel?" he hissed in my face, his eyes coming dangerously close to mine. He glared me down, his hand still on my wrist, keeping my hand on the knife. His nails were digging into my skin. "How does it feel to be in pain for once?"

"Please . . . stop . . . " I breathed. I could barely catch my own breath. There was no working of my lungs. I was stuck in an endless time of pain and suffering.

Instead of doing the opposite, he jerked my hand up, causing me to slash through my stomach once more, digging deeper into it a larger gash being formed. More nerves went off. Blood soaked my shirt. I whimpered a bit.

"Not a scream from you," he growled, his hand now gripping so tightly on my arm that I couldn't feel it. "You're just as stubborn as before. I hate you."

"Stop," I whined, leaning my head against the wall. I wasn't breathing properly. More bile was raising in my throat. I was shaking horrendously. I couldn't move.

He finally yanked my hand away from my stomach, the knife coming with it. I looked at the blade and my stomach. Blood soaked the both of them. I was about to puke all my insides out of my body just at the sight of them. 

"You know what? Let's here you drown in your own blood. I want to hear your throat gurgling with the coagulating blood that fills your lungs from your throat," Namjoon said, reaching the knife up to my throat. "Have fun in hell, Y/N."