Whisper of death [Yoonkook]

1. Voices You Can't Stop

Yoongi was distracted by the melancholic sound of his own regrets. It resembled the crackling echo of the flames, the deadly smirk of your fears. The way he perceived this world was utopic, it had nothing to do with material goods.

He was never a materialist. Even though he was one of the most popular mobsters in his gang, the brutal one who would pull the trigger. The blood that always spreads gradually is only a shelter, a mask of a fake power, that covers the fragile soul within, surviving in the cold cracks of his agonizing nightmares. The screams of his victims is the sound of his own panic, which made him dizzy, the strong memory of his own crimson fluid covering the floor was so fresh that he could taste it on his lips. Since then, the only pain he has felt was a simultaneous headache, reminding him that it was his begs and tears, that fucked him up forever.

Revenge tastes surprisingly astounding, like an overly sweet bite, that burns your tongue with its sinful aspires.

"Yoongi." Namjoon sternly called him, since he was spacing out. Yoongi's eyes darkened, the little sparkle of hope, vanished after a moment, because of the unpleasant view in front of him.

A man was tied on a chair, his hands desperately trying to get out of the handcuffs, hopelessly making poor attempts to yell. Namjoon's husky voice soon pierced the moment of silence, grabbing the other's man collar.

"What was unclear in " Stop talking"?!" He growled, clenching his jaw. Yoongi signed, reluctantly standing from his chair, approaching the man dangerously slow, his steps echoing. Probably the last sound he is going to hear.

" I'm so tired of dealing with this." Yoongi muttered, kneeling down the tortured man, just to stare into his eyes. Fear. He knows what will follow, yet he can't accept it. Glassy eyes of suffocating pain, opened wounds all over his body, deep cuts decorating his skin. It wasn't Yoongi's first time seeing so much torture, pure horror and pain into someone's eyes. A man he used to respect, who was nothing more than a toy today.

Yoongi's eyes slowly moved towards Namjoon's clothes, soaked in blood, his fingers holding a gun. He cocked his eyebrow, questioning his brother's appearance. His brother. Namjoon was the person who saved Yoongi before. The only human who has reached his little brother's vulnerable side, probably the only one. He thought.

"What is it about?" Yoongi's voice was mystifying, a pure epitome of danger and sadness, a mix between a low comforting voice and a deep growl of protest. Quite deep voice for someone whose face screamed 'innocent'.

"He is the one who gave information about our activity to the rival. We need to react as soon as possible." Namjoon's expression suddenly got serious, staring at Yoongi for approval. Despite of Namjoon's influence as a leader, Yoongi was the most skillful one with knives and swords. Yoongi furrowed his eyebrows, clicking his tongue. A hint of anxiety and wonder crossed Namjoon's face as he looked down.

"Do you know what was your biggest mistake?" Yoongi teasingly asked, the man struggled to speak, the clothing in his mouth only stretching his already exhausted jaw even more. Yoongy oddly liked it when their victims knew what they did. "You disturbed my brother, as well as my whole gang. Your miserable attempts to ruin me were worthless." Yoongi dangerously retorted, pushing the gun to the man's head.

For a brief moment, the moments of absolute torture went through his head like flashbacks, triggering him deeply. Yoongi could sense the rush of his heart, hammering inside his bleeding chest. He crawled, the blurry vision of his brother's unconscious body still in front of his, the dead bodies of their abusers decorating the halls. He felt himself getting nauseous, repulsed by the outrageous picture. It never left him by himself. Even the loneliness was a curse, because deep inside the petrifying memories, it was all they had left. It was their music. And they danced with the devil.