Kim Minah
Where am I? I've been stuck with this guy for days now, he feeds me and all, but why? What does he want with me? We barely talk, whenever he visits, it's just to feed me. He ignores my questions and walks out. Even after everything, I still don't feel particularly bad towards him; he seems like he doesn't even want me here.
For the first time in a long time, he finally speaks, dropping me off my food and unchaining me, "get up," he talks. I try to pick myself up, but the numbness of my legs turn them to jelly. I immediately fall into his arms, his firm, strong arms- Woah! Damn, I miss Johnny.
He lifts me off the ground, throwing me over his shoulder, it takes all of my power to not throw up at the sudden motion. My body feels weak like all the energy has been sucked out of it. "Where are we going?" I whisper, unable to speak properly. He continues walking, shoving me into a small car, "somewhere," he responds quite coldly. I scoff, sitting myself down and slapping his hands away when he tries to fasten my seatbelt, "I can do it myself."
"Really?" he mocks, "I thought after the last incident where you couldn't even stand up properly, you'd need help with this too." I glare back at him, rolling my eyes, is he making a joke?
"ha, ha! Very funny," I reply with a scowl, "are you letting me go now?" He remains silent, slamming the car door and strolling to the front. I sit back into the uncomfortable car seat, groaning. He merely stares ahead, driving away, occasionally glancing over at me. After around half an hour of driving, the roads become familiar, recognisable. I've been here before.
The sudden sense of nostalgia crawls up my spine as I realise where we are, the club. He pulls me out, taping my mouth and tying my arms behind my back. "Hurry," he whispers, "we're late." I try to escape, but it's no use, my struggling is nothing compared to his strength. "Stop struggling," he hisses, "you'll only make things worse." For some reason, I believed him. He's the one who kidnapped me, I'm the victim, but why does it feel like there's an ulterior motive for this. We sit in some basement, the smell of alcohol and drugs making me feel slightly nauseous. I don't have the energy to fight, but when I hear the sound of a gunshot, I immediately jump. "Shit," he mutters to himself, but I understand quite clearly, "that wasn't supposed to happen." Another gunshot, another jump. What's going on up there?
Mark Lee
The feeling of a bullet ripping a hole in my flesh is one I'm too familiar with, but one in the chest? It's a sensation I've never felt before, the rush of the speed. I grunt, falling to the cold, marble floor as I watch the rest of NCT enter, kneeling beside me. "Get him to Doyoung," I hear, it's Taeyong. I smile at him since when did he get so handsome? "Stay with me," he says, hands putting pressure on my chest, "stay with me." The adrenaline pumping through my veins keeps me going for a while, but that suddenly stops amidst a terrifying scream. The scream sends shockwaves through my system, alerting me that someone is anxious, Minyoung.
She rushes over to me and following her Doyoung, her hand clasped with mine as they lift me and take me away. It seems as if the world has stopped, the panic in her eyes making me feel anxious. Don't panic; please don't panic. Her warm tears spill on my face as she rushes out of the floor. For a moment, the room stops, the fighting, the blood, the gunshots, all of it is at a standstill. She looks pretty, a small smile tug at my lips, "N-noona," I mumble, "you're so pretty."
Her glowing eyes under the dim lights, shine so beautifully, her cat-like features making the hurt go away. I watched, as she continues to cry, "don't go! Keep your eyes open," she cries, but my eyes slowly start to give way. She shakes me, "No! Keep them open!"
I'm trying! I'm trying, but I can't.
3rd Person's P.O.V.
Taeyong watched as one of his youngest was taken away, shot. He rubbed the bottom of his lips with his thumb, looking down at the bloodstain. It happened right in front of him; Mark's blood splattering across his face. He took a deep breath, in an attempt to calm himself down, but couldn't. His cheeks grew a deep red, his eyes slightly flinching and his fists clenching. He took another deep breath, closing his eyes, but nothing worked. He was killing someone today; someone is going to die.
He rushed over to Suho, punching him in the jaw with all of his strength, knocking him straight to the floor. Suho winced, coughing up the red substance, and gulping ever so slightly, "you haven't lost your touch Tae." This infuriated the leader, even more, the nickname Seulgi had called him. He felt his stomach twist in revulsion; goosebumps covered his back, "YOU'RE DEAD KIM JUNMYEON! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!" he screamed. For a split second, an ounce of fear ran down Suho's spine. He watched as Taeyong's breathing grew heavier.
His fighting grew intense, the feeling of wanting him dead messing with his head. It surged through his body, numbing out any other sense, "DIE!" he screeched, knocking Suho's head on the back of the bar, his head bled, but he wasn't gone just yet. This time, he fought back, pulling Taeyong by the hair and flinging him into a glass table. The glass table completely shattered, taking Taeyong with it as it broke. He grimaced in pain, flinching as he felt a shard of glass twisted into his arm. He yanked it out, clenching his jaw in the process, a squelching sound was made as he pulled it out. He tilted his face, wiping the blood off with the back of his palm and licking his bottom lip. "Fuck," he groans, panting on his knees. Suho looks over at him, gun to hand and ready to shoot, "this is it Taeyong, I knew I'd be the last one standing."
Taeyong grips on to the floor, pushing himself up, but Suho kicks him back down, "not this time brother, this time, I win." Taeyong tried to get up again but was pushed continuously down; this can't be it. He can't lose! The world was still, the moments freezing and freezing, an illusion. He slipped in and out of consciousness, the loud atmosphere making it hard for him to concentrate, and even breathe. The loud noises were cut off, and instead, the silence illuminating through his mind made it slightly peaceful, but peace only lasts for so long.
His peace was cut off by a loud bang and a very loud gasp. "B-boss," spoke Suho, gawking like a toddler. Namjoon, on the other side of the club, was similarly shocked, letting Seokjin drop to the floor as mouth grew agape. The boss stood still, a gun secure in his hand and an expression, unlike no other, painted across his face.
Namjoon's face grew smug, "and what are you doing here, Takeshi?" This infuriated the boss; nobody ever calls him that. "I came here for my daughter," Namjoon's face dropped, how did he know? This time, Seokjin was up and standing, spitting out some blood and with a smile, answered the question, "well, Mr Son, don't you worry about her. She's safe and sound, so you can do whatever's necessary." Namjoon glared back at Seokjin,
"you fucking traitor!" he spat, but Seokjin could only smirk.
"Traitor? No, Joon, I'm not a traitor. I've been with NCT since the beginning before you were even a thought."
Namjoon's body shook, a range taking over him like no other, he had never felt so humiliated in his life. "Y-you!"
"M-me? What?" Seokjin mockingly scoffed, pushed the younger out of his way, "you've always been a prick. Even when I pity you, you do something that reminds me of why I hate you in the first place." Namjoon's lips trembled, he was truly hurt, taking him by surprise and filling him with despair. He can't let it get to him, but it does and in the worst way possible.
The gun in his hands tremendously shakes, aimed straight for Seokjin's head, "I'm sorry Hyung," he whispers.
BANG!
Namjoon drops the gun out of his hands, landing on the floor with a thud. A bullet hole in his right abdomen, he looks up, everything a blur. And then, footsteps, a face he thought he had forgotten. A mere memory. "Did you forget about me, motherfucker?" asks a familiar voice. He looks up,
"H-Heechul?" he lets out with a slight gasp, "you're supposed to be dead."
"Turns out I got lucky, I escaped death, and with a vengeance," he scowls, "but you, you won't be so lucky."
"You son of a-"
"Say hi to mother for me, and see you in hell," he spat before shooting Namjoon in the head, multiple times, making sure he was dead.
Namjoon was nothing but a corpse.
Ok, so the FF will end with 40-45 chapters, it really depends on how long I make the next chapter tbh.
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Addicted To You | NCT Gang AU ✔️
Fanfiction"There is no turning back, no secret visits and absolutely no going out in the night." Relationships and gangs are two things that should never mix. But what happens when they do? And in a world where enemies are closer than friends? Angsty NCT 127...
