TW for violence, gang activity, guns, death, and corpses
Despite his initial excitement for his big fight tonight, Changbin felt a sense of foreboding in the air. It twisted his gut in the worst possible ways, and it seemed like he wasn't the only one feeling this way. His friends knew about these fights he regularly participated in, but they never voiced any sort of objections to it... until tonight.
[fuckboy]: idk man, mayb u shuld drop out n hang w me for once!
[fuckboy]: we'll go clubbing n pick up a few fucks yeah? it'll b fun!
Or maybe Kino just wanted someone to be a comparison against his "charms" and shit, so he could score more hook-ups tonight. It happened before, as did the next set of texts he received.
[her]: i know you're going off to fight again so don't come knocking on my door when you get beat up this time!
[her]: seriously, if you don't want to stop fighting, then at least stop coming to me
[her]: i don't like seeing you hurt so just please stop. please?
That almost made him reconsider. As much as she usually told him off, Heejin never used these kinds of phrasing for it. And to make matters even worse, the next set of messages he received only made the air thicker.
[yug hyung]: don't go 2nite. had sooya do a reading on u.
[yug hyung]: said it wasn't a good idea. said there was gonna be big trouble waiting 4 u if u went.
Changbin himself wasn't a believer in all the mystic and occult stuff, but if Yugyeom—the man who introduced him to underground fights in the first place—said it wasn't a good idea, then something might be wrong. And yet despite all these, he brushed it off as anxiety for the big fight he had coming. He was confident in himself and all the training he had done the past few weeks; he was ready.
The fight itself wasn't that bad. It was actually going better than he expected, but the sense of dread didn't fade even as the round was nearing its end. He was sure he would win with just a final punch to his opponent's face. But before he could land one, the blaring sirens halted any activity. One moment, still and silent; the next moment, everyone was scrambling to get away and avoid getting caught. Although underground fighting wasn't a huge criminal offense, it was still illegal, and nothing was worse than being caught by a system he hated.
Changbin grabbed his belongings, sprinting along the masses away from the warehouse. In all the commotion and ducking into backways, he found himself at an unfamiliar side of the district. As he turned the corner, he found himself jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.
A group of six men surrounded a smaller group of three. The smaller group cowered before a man with a shock of red hair holding a gun towards them. There were two duffel bags, stuffed to bursting and a small bag of a white substance sticking out of it. Just his luck, Changbin had found himself witness to a bigger criminal offense than he'd like.
"Saw something you shouldn't have?" someone whispered from behind him. He didn't have time to turn around before he felt a sharp pain at the back of his head that sent him stumbling forward. His head hurt and his vision spun, then he was manhandled to kneel with the smaller group of men.
As his vision started to settle, he could make out the group of men before him. The man with a shock of red hair, presumably the leader, looked at him with disinterest; his gun was pointed at the leader of the smaller group. On the man's wrist was a tattoo Changbin couldn't quite make out.
"Who's that?" the red haired man asked. He had an accent Changbin couldn't quite place, which was the same accent his assailant had.
"A rat. I saw him lingering around." It was his assailant—a man with bleached blonde hair, long greyish extensions, and distinctive deep voice.
"He doesn't look like he's with them though," another man said. This one had light brown hair and quite a unique face structure.
"Doesn't matter. He's still a witness," the leader spoke up, shooting the leader of the smaller group without hesitation. He turned to another member of the smaller group, gesturing with his pistol.
"I'm gonna ask you what I asked your friend. Where's The Bear hiding?" But the leader's question was met with a stuttering and whimpering answer. Losing patience, he shot this one too.
Two bodies laid before Changbin before the leader turned to the last remaining member of the smaller group. Before the red haired man could ask again, the entire group of men collectively froze when the sirens grew louder. A sound Changbin never thought he'd be thankful for.
The group of men before him looked alarmed, but the leader reigned them in as he barked orders. One man carried the duffel bags to a parked car's trunk, and three men picked up the corpses to stow them in a separate car's trunk. Another man knocked out the survivor and carried him to one of the cars.
"What about this guy?" A man with shoulder length dark hair asked the leader, as both men looked at him. Although he could have tried to run or fight, Changbin was terrified. His eyes were still transfixed on the leader, or more precisely, the pistol in the leader's hand.
The leader finally put the pistol back into its holster, keeping his eyes on Changbin. It brought a slight relief, knowing there weren't any weapons pointed at him now, so maybe they'd let him go. All relief faded from him as the leader spoke.
"Take him with us. We'll deal with him later," he said before walking away. Changbin watched as the leader got into one of the cars and it drove away.
"Lucky you," the long haired man said before there was another sharp pain at the back of Changbin's head. His vision was blurring and fading to black. He was losing consciousness, but he could feel the other man grab him. And on the other's wrist was a tattoo, similar to the leader's.
SKZ. The infamous mafia gang of the underworld.
Before he completely blacked out, he cursed his luck.
[Changbin is away for now. He will not be able to respond in asks, dash, or DMs, but Y/N chats will be unaffected.]
jacobvanloon
izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
andulkaphoto
prguitarman
titsay
stormborns
