kill steal — l.jn
description. in which you find your name on the kill list of a notorious group of maniac killers and lee jeno is your only ticket out alive. | for @kpopscape’s ‘the 21st purge’ event
pairings. lee jeno x gender-neutral reader (+ mentions of other members)
genre. thriller, suspense, purge!au
warnings. swearing. mention of being suicidal (reader is not suicidal but it was used just for comparison once). mentions and usage of guns and knives. mentions of blood, death and murder. graphic descriptions of violence and death. major character death. bonus, !! tattooed neos !! and leather jacket jeno.
word count. 8k
playlist. #0321
notes.
the OGs — johnny, taeyong, yuta, kun, ten, doyoung, jaehyun, winwin the Faculty Wipe Out recruits — jungwoo, lucas, mark, xiaojun, hendery the 00-line — renjun, jeno, haechan, jaemin, yangyang, shotaro
— in this au, sungchan, chenle and jisung are recruited into the neos but not mentioned because of the perspective this story is told. and all of these notes will make sense later, just sit tight. aight?
It all started that day at the library.
You were the librarian’s assistant for extra credit, you saw it as a more viable way to waste time instead of wasting away at your apartment. Home was far away and you were bored of rereading the same books on your bookshelves. Itching for paper etched with thousands of words, you offered to work at the school library. At first, you were doing it for free in your spare time just so you could get access to a wide-range of books with minimal cost and effort. Until the librarian offered that she’d take you in as an assistant for additional credit.
On Fridays, you worked overtime just so the old lady could get off earlier and get some rest. Besides, you still had the weekend to catch up with your school work and you’d rather be anywhere than at those Friday night parties everyone was going to.
Like most Fridays, the library was empty save for the few introverted regulars who you’ve begun to recognize through the weeks you’ve been here. They usually left right around closing so you had some sort of human company until you began closing up.
At 10 minutes to 10pm, you finished returning the last of the books that the students left behind on the tables. Then you made your way to the furthest ends of the library where the wall with the enormous windows were.
When you were younger, you always marvelled at how people managed to close them. You thought it required superhuman strength. Now that you were doing the job, the deed lost it’s magic. Your fingers found the ropes that were hooked unto the window’s handles and gave it a quick tug. The massive windows weren’t as heavy as you initially expected them to be. They looked like they weighed a ton, but they closed without much effort. The only challenge was getting both flaps to close together without one overlapping the other. You’ve mastered that now.
Once you’ve closed all 3 windows at the back, you rounded the hall one last time, checking if there were any other things you missed. By the time you finished checking every aisle, it was a little past 10. You sighed in relief as you made your way back to the front of the building to time out and lock up.
But you saw someone standing by the librarian’s desk. On instinct, you blinked twice, thinking it was just your mind playing tricks on you again. But the figure didn’t disappear.
The person was still hunched over the desk, flipping pages on the registry and just tinkering with about anything they could get their hands on.
“Hi, excuse me,” you called out from across the room, “we’re already closed. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”
You’ve grown accustomed to saying the line to procrastinators who arrived at closing time, thinking that the library was open 24/7. They’d mutter curses and rush off elsewhere. You’d feel bad sometimes, knowing the feeling of having nowhere else to go during such a crisis. You always tried guessing what they were here for, which exams they needed to study for and what not. You usually made small talk with them, figuring out what they were procrastinating with and leaving a suggestion as to where they could go besides the campus library.
Tonight, your visitor came empty-handed but his hand wasn’t exactly empty at all. Your words fall short on your lips as you walked closer, finally getting a better glimpse of the tattoo on the back of his hand. Neos, you thought and you stagger backwards at the sight of their symbol.
“But,” you dragged the word on as you checked the time on your wristwatch, “I think I have time to spare tonight.” Actually, you couldn’t wait to get home but if spending at least another hour in the library meant you’ll live to see another year after this year’s Purge, you’d take it. “I can wait for you to finish what you’re doing and I’ll lock up after you leave.”
You tried your best not to make your voice sound shaky even when you were terrified beyond belief. You let out a shaky breath before you turned the other way, finding something to distract yourself with until the boy was done with his business.
“_____?”
You froze.
It wasn’t the first time you’ve crossed paths with the Neos, but it was definitely the first time one of them spoke to you directly. Having a few of them in your classes, you ran into them quite a lot. Thankfully, you’ve been lucky enough not to be paired or grouped with them during class activities. Like a pack of wolves, they often grouped together regardless of what the professor said—as if those poor adults had a say in anything anymore after the Faculty Wipe Out three Purges ago.
Despite being in close proximity to them sometimes, you’ve remained invisible in their eyes for the majority of your stay in the university. Freshmen were taught to avoid getting on their bad side during orientations. The group was notorious for numerous gang-related activities both within the university and all over the city. Above all the things they’ve achieved, the highest honor was being labelled the so-called Purge Kings—boasting the highest kill count average back-to-back for every year for the past six years. Bottomline, anyone who dared to oppose them didn’t make it past the 21st of March. They all died trying.
You figured that the best way to never be on their bad side was by not being in their radar entirely. It wasn’t much of a tedious task for you. Besides the classroom, you were almost never in the same breathing space as they were. For the past 3 years it worked flawlessly. Or at least you assumed.
You hoped you hadn’t taken too long to answer. You turned on your heel, answering in the same cheerful tone you used when entertaining anyone who came and went. “Yes?”
Lee Jeno shut the register logbook before finding the nearest table. “I need to talk to you,” he said as he pulled a wooden chair back so he could take a seat.
“Right now?” You blurt the question out loud before you could think twice.
His eyes landed on yours when he looked up. You expected to see an unreadable expression on his face, like what he usually wore whenever he was with the Neos. But all you saw were knitted eyebrows and a boy struggling not to laugh at you.
For a split-second, he looked harmless with his eyes disappearing into concaves as he analyzed the way you stared back at him. Without the other boys around, he looked like any other university student you might find around. Gone with his smile was every rumor you heard about the Neos being nothing but emotionless psychopaths. They were never proven to be true anyway—or no one ever lived long enough to testify. You never had any firsthand experience with how ruthless they could be and the Neo before you didn’t seem too bad at all, unlike what the stories said.
Jeno straightened his stance to reach the chair adjacent to his, pushing it back before gesturing for you to sit on it. You took it, feeling yourself ease a little the more time you spent in the same space.
“I get why you’re scared to talk with me,” he whispered before he pursed his lips, probably thinking of the same thing you were thinking, “especially with the timing.”
He was right. Part of the reason why you didn’t seem to be all welcoming with him was the convenience of the date. A member of the Neos appearing out of nowhere, a week before the Purge, just seemed too impossible to be a mere coincidence.
“Here’s some reassurance that I’m not here to harm you.” Jeno balled his tattooed hand into a fist and rested it on the wooden table. Up close, the tattoo only made your skin crawl even more. The spider only had six legs, three on either side of its body, and on its back were two zeros inked in red.
The first time you saw the spider sigil was outside the campus’ main gates three years ago when nearly half of the university’s staff was reported missing the morning after the Purge. You remembered getting too close to the spray painting of the spider just to count exactly how many legs it had (12, you recalled, 6 on either side) and immediately feeling queasy because of the strong scent of paint thinner. It took a lot of it to remove such an enormous spider with four too many legs.
The Neos shared the spider tattoo as a symbol of their brotherhood. The number of spider’s legs varied across subsections within the organization. You’ve seen the same tattoo Jeno had imprinted on at least two other hands. Compared to theirs, Jeno’s was a lot darker. Not because a different ink was used, but because the skin where the tattoo was badly burnt.
“You came here to show me your tattoo?” Again, you wanted to slap yourself for letting such a comment slip off your mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound sarcastic. It was a genuine question,” you mumbled.
Jeno shook his head, “It’s fine, I get it. And you don’t have much reason to be scared of me anymore. I quit the group after last year’s Purge.”
Your eyes catch the burned tattoo again. If the intention of burning it was removal, it wasn’t very effective. If anything, the charred skin looked more prominent now than it was before.
Noticing how your attention was fully fixated on the tattoo now, Jeno pulled his hand off the table. “But that’s not what I came here for.”
Of course your hunch was right. There was no way a Neo—ex-Neo, anyway—took the time to come all the way here for nothing.
“I don’t know how but your name,” Jeno uttered cautiously with his eyes keeping watch of the surroundings as he spoke, “it’s on the list this year.”
“What list?”
“The Neos’ Kill List.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach, feeling the room grow colder as your mind slowly registered what he just said. “But why?”
“That’s the thing. Everyone else on the list deserved to be there one way or another. Previous fights, members of other gangs. I knew everyone else on the list and I came across them at least once, all except you. Until I heard your name called in class during the few times I attended anyway.”
Everything he said didn’t answer your question so you let it enter one ear and out the other. You finally turned to him, “Why are you telling me this? It’s like putting a bounty on your own head.”
A pained expression crosses his face for a moment as if your words implied that someone like him was incapable of feeling any emotions. But then again, that was what the Neos were always known for. “Innocent people should be left out of it.”
You stared back at him in disbelief, as if the words that left his lips were too unrealistic to hear firsthand.
“I’ll go ahead. This conversation never happened but I warned you. At least, I tried to.” Jeno pushed the seat back into the table after he stood up and stepped away. “Stay safe on Purge Night,” he said.
“Stay safe on Purge Night,” you replied, staring dumbfounded at empty space.
The sound of his footsteps faded as he walked further and further away. In the dead of the night, you were once again enveloped in silence but the thoughts in your head were at their loudest.
You had no one else to blame but your stubborn, cynic self.
Since that night at the library, you had more than a week’s time to formulate some form of escape plan from certain death. Yet you didn’t do anything, thinking Jeno’s appearance was just some elaborate prank the Neos were pulling to make you look stupid for their entertainment. Shrugging his warning off, you went on with your week like nothing had changed.
It wasn’t until after around 4AM on March 22nd that you understood the gravity of your situation when the realization finally dawns on you that ignoring the warnings might as well equate with being suicidal. If staying alive was your top priority, disregarding the warning from a Neo himself might’ve been the worst mistake you’ve made so far. Not everyone on the Kill List was blessed with any form of heads up on their impending doom. Or maybe they were, but like you, they chose not to take it seriously until the Neos were right outside their doorsteps.
You awoke to the sound of your phone ringing on your side table. Initially, you thought the sound had been your alarm which confused you when you woke up with not a single ray of sunlight seeped in through your curtains yet. Thinking you only set the alarm a bit too early, you reached for your phone. But there were no buttons on the screen to snooze it. Instead there was an unknown number and the buttons for answering and declining the call. You didn’t think twice about declining it.
But the call comes again, and again, and again. Same number over and over, as if the person on the other end redialled as soon as you declined the call.
A few failed attempts later, you finally gave in and you swipe the green button before pressing the phone against your ear.
“This better be urgent,” you uttered with a hoarse voice.
You only remembered the date when you heard the exchange of gunfire in the background of the person on the other end of the line. Purge Night, you thought. Your plans to sleep right through it were disrupted once again.
“It’s Jeno. They’re out to get you. Hide. Now.”
“What?” Jeno could hear the confusion in your tone which made him groan at the other end of the line. “Who’s,” you trailed off before reforming your statement. “What do you mean hide?”
Jeno was exasperated. “Hide. Just fucking hide. Anywhere, just so it’ll take them longer to find you. They have the entire block around your apartment building surrounded. But I’m close too, here’s to hoping that I’ll arrive before them.”
You were about to speak into the phone but the line was already dead. You redial twice and on both times, it goes straight to voicemail. You leap off your bed and peak through the curtains. Truly enough a van with the spider sigil was outside.
Your mind spins into panic when you hear someone banging on your front door. You had less time than you thought. You look around, searching for any type of hiding place. You find the nearest cabinet and slip inside. You weren’t fond of the dark but staying in a dark enclosed space rather than being in the bare open with the possibility of a maniac killer bursting into the room any second was worse than staying in the dark.
You try to level your breathing when you hear the banging grow louder. They continued to try the door knob but to no avail. Your fingers unconsciously dial Jeno again. Still no answer. You hear a gun fire once, then twice, then you hear the door bang against the wall as if someone had kicked it open, then the sound of heavy footfalls.
Then you hear your name being called. But it’s muffled by the ringing sound in your ear. You didn’t want to die yet. You weren’t ready to die yet.
They found your room easily, of course. It wasn’t like you had the biggest apartment. There were only two other rooms the intruders could have ventured into; the kitchen and then the bathroom. The last door led to your bedroom. They tried the doorknob several times before they resorted to the same strategy they did with the other door that got in the way.
Inside the closet you willed yourself to be as silent as possible. You hadn’t noticed you started holding your breath until you started feeling suffocated inside the close space. You willed your body no to move, any minor adjustment could make the wood around you creak and draw the intruder’s attention to your closet when there were still other places to search. You hear the footsteps draw closer, passing right by the closet.
Then your phone rings.
The closet doors are drawn open and you find yourself staring at a man who had his face covered in a white kabuki mask.
“Found you!” The boy said. “Don’t need this anymore,” he said, snagging your phone away from your hands before throwing it aside.
The boy reached out his hand to grab yours but you slap it away on instinct. Your hand grazes his mask and it falls off his face. He moves back and his face comes into light. The Japanese transfer student, you thought as you recalled registering him up on the librarian’s records. Shotaro was barely two semesters in yet he already carried the tattoo of the spider on his neck, earning more respect than those who stayed in the university longer. Might’ve been his first Purge in this city but with the way he yanked you out of the closet with ease told you it wasn’t his first time taking anyone hostage.
Your body slams on to the cold floor. The boy doesn’t waste any time in pinning you down. He kept his leg on your back, pressing you down on the floor to render you immobile. You squirm beneath him but to no avail.
“Somebody told you we were coming, huh? Is that why you were hiding?”
Jeno’s voice echoes in your head telling you that the conversation with him never happened. He risked his life enough just to warn you about your name being on the list. You didn’t answer him, instead you just shook your head.
“Or were you trying to escape out your window?” he said, gesturing at the open window.
You blinked, feeling a gust of wind sweep the room. The wind from this high up was always chilly, which was why you never left your window open.
Why was it open?
The answer comes in the form of a masked figure that moved faster than Shotaro could calculate. In the figure’s hand was a thick book, probably one they picked off your shelf. Without thinking twice, they slammed it onto the back of the other boy’s head. For a moment, Shotaro was stunned and when he prioritized his balance over keeping you pinned down, you took the opportunity and escape. You pushed yourself up and rolled away from him.
Shotaro was about to grab hold of your leg when he seized, pausing mid-act as the other person pressed the barrel of their gun against the back of the former’s head.
“Don’t even try it,” you heard the voice uttered. Jeno, you recognized. You watched as he pressed the metal harder whenever Shotaro moved so much an inch. He then turned to you, “Out the window, now.”
You moved mindlessly, following his order without putting much thought into it. Struggling to comprehend everything, you found it hard to believe that it hasn’t even been ten minutes since you got up.
You were halfway out the window when Shotaro attempted to swipe the gun out of Jeno’s hand. But the latter’s grip wasn’t weak—he never let go of his weapon even as he was striked on reflexes that should’ve made him loosen his grip even for a bit. A shot was fired, barely missing you but you managed to make it out the window unscathed.
Jeno slammed the grip of the gun against Shotaro’s head, sending the younger boy into a daze again—this time long enough for Jeno to make a getaway. The bedroom door slams open as 2 other Neos came in after hearing the gunshot. Jeno fired another shot, barely missing the hand of the Neo who held the door open. They took the warning and stood down, lowering their own guns as Jeno backed away towards the window. He glared at them one last time before he ducked down the pane to meet you outside.
For a moment, he was worried that another Neo got to you before he did. But he saw you sitting a few steps down, hand clutching the railing and staying out of the street’s view as much as you could.
He trotted down, offering a hand when he reached you, “Come on.” It doesn’t take long for him to realize that you still haven’t recovered from the shock, but he didn’t have the time to wait around for you to come to your senses. He made the move to grab your hand, instantly capturing your attention. Your blank eyes slowly found their way to his.
“I’ll keep you safe from them, I promise,” Jeno uttered. “Without me, you’re defenseless. At least when I’m around, you have a fighting chance. Now, let’s go.”
Keeping both your heads ducked down, you sped down the emergency ladder. Thankfully, the Neos haven’t followed you out yet—maybe out of pity, you thought, but you were just grateful you didn’t have armed men raining bullets on you as you ran.
Even in the darkness of the shadow of your apartment complex, your eyes could see him clearly. Somewhere along the way, he managed to get rid of the black cloth mask he had draped over his head to conceal his identity. His hair was a mess but he paid no attention to it. But you did. That was when you noticed the tattoo on the back of his neck. A snake head, you thought, and the rest disappeared beneath his sweater—probably in line with his spine.
Jeno hadn’t let go of your hand yet. He kept his attention forward, dragging you down the steps with no regard whether you slipped or fell. Maybe his coming to your rescue was nothing but an act of pity as well. Now, you just felt more pathetic.
You owned the room closest to the corner of the building. Your window had a built-in emergency exit staircase that led down into an alley by the side of the apartment complex. Completely obscured from the view from the front but only if you were careful. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach the end of the staircase.
Jeno kicks down the ladder to the first floor until the final rung touches the cemented pathway below. He turned, probably to check if you were being followed, then his eyes met yours again.
“After you,” he said, gesturing at the ladder.
You looked over the edge, swallowing the lump in your throat as you saw just how far the ground was. Your palms began to sweat and you wondered how much it would hurt if your grip slipped and you fell head first.
“I know it’s still a bit high up but don’t get ahead of yourself,” Jeno said as if he read exactly what you were thinking. “You can do it. Just one step after the other.”
You took one deep breath in before you began your climb down. It wasn’t as bad as you initially thought, so long as you never looked at the ground too long. Soon enough, you reached the bottom just as you heard another gunshot ring through the air.
You automatically glanced up. The stairs rattled and shook as a group of men started running down. You couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they were shouting at one another and pointing at the ground—pointing at you. You hide behind the ladder just in time before another gunshot barely misses you. Thankfully, where you stood was a blindspot. Unless they climbed down the ladder, then you were screwed.
Jeno gripped both poles of the ladder with gloved hands, sliding down the ladder the way you’ve seen firemen do in the movies. In a second, he was standing next to you and sending the ladder back up. At the very least, it would stall those who were chasing after you.
You watched as the ladder rattled on its way up, creating a loud bang as it clashed with the metal plate of the ramp. Jeno grabbed hold of your hand again and you were running, this time to the back of the apartment complex where the parking lot was.
“There,” Jeno pointed at a black Hyundai Accent, parked conveniently at the middle of the lot and one turn away from the exit.
You dash for the car, hopping into the passenger seat as Jeno slipped into the driver’s seat. He started the car up with the flick of his wrist and turned a few knobs to light up the driveway. At the end of the lot stood five masked men—one with the Kabuki mask that you recognized.
Jeno clicked his tongue and frowned. But it didn’t stop him from flooring it. The car jolted forward, speeding in the direction where the men stood.
“Jeno,” you croaked, grabbing hold onto one of the handles on the car ceiling.
He wasn’t startled one bit, switching gears and going faster. One of the boys aimed a gun straight at you, shooting as you got closer and closer. You flinched every time he fired the gun, but the bullets ricocheted off the car’s hood every time as if he was purposely missing the windshield.
Jeno barely misses them when he passes by, making the turn towards the parking lot exit. The boys jump out of the car’s path at the last second before tumbling onto the cemented ground. A smirk tugged at the corner of Jeno’s mouth as he watched them through the side mirror. Then he drove into the highway away from them. Out of sight, out of mind.
The streets were almost empty tonight and unlike most nights downtown most, if not all, shops were closed. You barely saw an establishment that didn’t have thick garage doors down. As if the metal doors were enough to waver anyone determined enough to loot them.
“Where are we going?” you asked as he drove further and further away from your apartment building and into the supposedly busier—now, dead—part of the city.
Jeno kept his eyes on the road when he answered, “My place. I need to pick up a few things and we’re moving again.”
A veil of silence fell over the both of you. It made you hesitate but you could only stay silent for so long with the thoughts racing through your head. “Those masked men,” you began, “who were they?”
“0-0-6-0-0,” Jeno replied.
You turned to Jeno, “Six hundred?”
“No,” he said as he shook his head. He peeled the glove off of his right hand. “You see this? They’re our age and since we were admitted into the Neos at the same time, we decided to make 00600 our unit name. 00 for the birth year, 6 because there’s 6 of us.”
You nod as you let the information sink in. “No wonder they didn’t shoot you back in the apartment.”
“I doubt they even recognized me back there. But they sure did at the parking lot.”
“You mentioned units,” you continued, only this time you were no longer facing Jeno. Instead, you were staring outside, watching the sidewalk blur past you. “How many are there?”
“3 as far as I know,” he answered. “We’re lucky tonight.” he said.
“Your definition of lucky appalls me.”
Jeno chuckled, “Relatively lucky. If the OGs got there first, I doubt we’d make it out of the building alive.”
You arched your eyebrow in confusion, “OGs?”
“The original 9 members of the Neos.” He went on to elaborate how the group was formed back in 2016. The Neos were merely a group of men who wanted to purge for the night with one single objective and a mastermind who planned everything out. “Taeyong was selective in picking the people he wanted to recruit in his killing team but he included seniors down to freshmen. He was a junior at the time but damn, did he have a long kill list. That year, they unintentionally scored the highest kill count in the city and were labelled the Kings of the Purge in Seoul. Guess they have no plans of giving that title away now.”
Jeno explained how the spider symbol once represented the original 8 members—one leg for each one—and one head for the mastermind. “But Taeyong wanted to do something grand after he left the university. He couldn’t do it with only 9 people so he went and recruited sophomores and freshmen..”
“That something grand was the Faculty Wipe Out three years ago, wasn’t it?” you asked and Jeno nodded. “So when did you come in?”
“The year after the Faculty Wipe Out. As the years passed, it was getting harder and harder to remain on top of the Purge list. Taeyong thought a bunch of fearless millennium babies who weren’t scared of anything would make a good addition to the team.” Of course, the older boy was right. Jeno went on to tell you the ruthlessness of the 00s that you’re surprised they purposely left you both of earlier.
Jeno then continued, “During the Purge, we’re tasked to kill anyone on sight. But that starts to get boring when you’re halfway through the night when no one’s usually out anymore, especially when the Neos are roving around. So they decided to make the Kill List—a list of specific targets for the night we’re supposed to kill. It’s usually those who already made enemies with us,” he backtracks to correct himself, “them, or people who’re difficult to coax out for the challenge.”
You remained silent as you remembered the reason why you were riding beside him in the first place. “So, it’s for the Neo’s entertainment alone,” you trailed off.
“Basically. As far as I know the three groups are the 00s, the one’s recruited during the Faculty Wipe Out and OGs behind us,” he said, glimpsing up at the rearview mirror before shifting to the highest gear.
Now, you understood why Jeno was driving so fast on an empty highway. The roar of revved motor engines echoed in the night as the enormous bikes sped up—catching up to you at an alarming rate. The car has reached its limit, but the bikes still managed to pass you by with ease. Beside you, Jeno spat a curse.
At a distance, you see the bikers parking their motorcycles directly on the path of the car. Their riders leaned idly against their rides, armed with guns that were raised and pointed straight at the car windshield. Your breath hitches on your throat at the sight.
Jeno takes his foot off the accelerator and slams it on to the brake. The car wheels hissed beneath you as the car staggered to a halt a few feet away from the men blocking the way. The glass that separated you and those outside wasn’t tinted. You thought the amused grins on the faces of the men outside was because of the fear in your expressions, but you see them gesture toward Jeno before they share a laugh. The boy beside you looked away.
“What now?” you asked.
Behind you an armored vehicle rolls into view, parking meters away from the Accent you were in. You could make out a masked man walking to the front of the car. His mask was illuminated by neon lights forming two Xs over his eyes and a sewn in smile where his mouth should’ve been. He pressed a phone against his ear.
The built-in screen of the car radio lights up, illuminating both your faces. An unknown number shows up on the screen. Jeno swiped right to receive it.
“Lee Jeno!” the voice said. You would’ve mistaken it as a warm welcome if you didn’t know the circumstances behind it. “How has the Purge been for you?”
“Fine,” Jeno answered coldly. “I would like it better if you and your crew left us alone for the rest of the night, though.”
You rolled your eyes, as if the Neos ever spared sympathy for anyone. It was as long shot, but you applauded Jeno for trying.
A laugh rumbled through the car speakers but it was only met with silence. “But you do know you hold our tie-breaker captive.”
Jeno’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, “Find a way to win the game with only the 18 others on the list. Isn’t that more than enough?”
“You know how competitive each unit gets when it’s Purge night. You don’t think we haven’t come to a draw yet?”
“Stop bluffing. The others on the list are still alive.”
Taeyong hummed on the other side of the line. “You still have your sources.” He paused, as if a thought came to mind but he doesn’t elaborate it further. “It’s a neck-on-neck fight and I know it will all come down to that person in the passenger seat.”
You quivered, trying to keep a straight face as you hear the foreshadowing of your own fate at the end of the night.
“But since we have other things to do tonight, we’ll let you off. Losing the Kill List game is the least of my worries.” You both exhale in relief and realize you’ve been holding your breaths as you had your fates decided.
Taeyong gestured at the two riders and they began to clear the way for the car to pass through. Then he spoke into his phone speaker again.
“And Jeno, before I go,” he uttered in a low tone, “my offer still stands if you ever change your mind.”
Jeno taps the red end call button before he floors it again, racing down the highway without looking back.
You manage to make it to his house before the car starts rumbling before eventually stopping before Jeno has the chance to turn it off. The battery was still running but the car didn’t respond to the pedals anymore. Jeno tried the key again, the engine revved for a moment but it didn't start. The glass behind his steering wheel was illuminated by a blinking sign—signalling that the tank was empty.
Jeno pulled out the car keys before turning to you. “Get off, we can’t use this anymore.”
You followed, hopping out of the car before shutting the car door behind you. The cold air nips at your skin and you shiver. The sky was no longer inky black in color. It was a dark tint of violet but it
Jeno appears next to you, noticing the way you kept your arms close so you could warm yourself up. “Let’s go. I’ll get you some clothes inside. You look ridiculous running around with your pajamas.”
You followed him as he walked around the car and up to their front porch. Jeno’s place sat right by the edge of the city in a subdivision which stood in strong contrast against the tall glass-paned skyscrapers of the downtown area. At the end of the road was a bridge that crossed the Han river and on the other side were more skyscrapers. Overhead, the sky was no longer the midnight black it was an hour ago. Somehow you could tell that the sun was already rising somewhere.
Jeno walks up to the front door, unlocks it and slips inside. He rushes through the living room and disappears behind a wooden door. When he came back he threw a sweater in your direction, relying on your reflexes to catch it.
“Can’t we just wait out the next hour here?” you asked as you draped the sweater over your head. Judging from the way the sky was lit up now, it might’ve been nearly 6AM.
Jeno was rummaging through the cabinets as he spoke, “What makes you think they aren’t here yet?”
Before you manage to answer a fire blazes outside, lighting up the street where you both passed. A loud boom similar to a bomb’s echoes outside, blasting pressure strong enough that it shatters the front window. The car burst into flames. Thankfully, you were still standing by the door and the pressure was barely felt where you stood.
Jeno stood stunned but in a moment he was already grabbing your hand as what seemed to be a can of spray paint rolled on to the floor.
“Flash bang!” he shouted, grabbing hold of your hand and tugging you to the room he disappeared into. The bomb detonates, lighting up the living room behind you and emitting an ear-deafening noise that sends you out of balance. Your ears began to ring and you struggle to get on your feet again.
Jeno recovered before you, wincing at the sound before dragging you up. “Come on, come on.”
Even through the ringing, you could hear the sound of the front door being kicked open followed by the sound of heavy footsteps on the floor outside. Jeno dashed for the window, sliding the pane upward before slipping out. For the second time that night, you exit out the window and roll onto the garden of their house where grass cushioned your fall.
Your head spun as you dashed across the neighborhood. It wouldn’t take long before your pursuants would discover that the both of you were no longer in the house they were searching. You tried your best to run faster.
“I feel dizzy,” you uttered when you couldn’t take it anymore.
Your hand slips off Jeno’s as you slowed down. You were hunched over with your hands on your knees as you tried to catch your breath. Running breathless with spinning vision didn’t necessarily help your chances of survival. But neither did slowing down.
Jeno took your hand in his, “No, no, no. We have to go, we’re going to die here.” When you didn’t look up, he leaned down to meet your eye, “_____, stay with me.”
“We can’t run for the next hour,” you said, shaking your hand off his grip as you sat down on the wet pavement. Your pajamas were soaked but you couldn’t care less anymore. “Just leave me to die.”
Jeno looked at the horizon where the sun was slowly rising, “One last hour and you won’t have to worry about this again.”
You scoffed, “You think they’ll let me live to tell the tale?”
“If you die now, you’ll never know.” Maybe you didn’t want to know. But you didn’t want to die this way either. You were on the brink of giving up but you couldn’t let all of Jeno’s efforts come to waste now when there was one hour left.
You took his hand again.
“Come on. I have a plan.”
Parc1 Tower was a 72-storey building sitting on the other end of the Mapo bridge and it was a mile away. Without a car and with the city’s most infamous killers chasing you, something so close seemed to be too far. But the tower was your last shot at outrunning the Neos, at least until the Purge was over. You were running down the bridge at top speed with your thighs burning and feet aching.
It was a relief when you finally barged in through the double doors of the tower.
“Get in,” Jeno said, gesturing for the elevator. You climbed on as quick as you can as he fired bullets at the other elevator’s control panel.
“They’re here!” you blurted out as you saw the Neo’s closing in. Jeno stumbled to your side just in time, shutting the elevator doors right as the Neos walked in.
You slumped down onto the elevator floor, exhausted. The ride up was silent, save for the elevator music and the sound of the both of you catching your own breaths. A million thoughts race through your head as you struggled to process the events of the last four hours. You didn’t notice that your arms were stained with blood until you took a good look at it now. You weren’t even sure if it was your own, Jeno’s or someone else’s.
When the elevator reached the top floor, you climbed another staircase to reach the helipad. You made sure to bar the one-way entrance to the roof deck. The wooden cross on the handles weren’t too strong, but you prayed they were tough enough to last the next few minutes as the clock ticked closer to 7AM.
You never thought that you’d make it this far alive.
The sun has long risen from the horizon and the entire city was now basked in sunlight, exposing the remnants of last night’s purge. From the rooftop of the building you were both perched on, you could make out the streets you speed through a few hours ago. They were empty then but they were littered with lifeless bodies now with significant amounts of blood splattered on the pavement and on the walls that they could still be visible this high up.
Your head throbbed, both from fatigue and from the dwindling adrenaline rush that kept you upright throughout the night. In the past four hours, you learned not to underestimate the human body’s instinct to survive in the most grave situations. You ran at speeds you thought you’d never reach and did stunts that would rival any gymnast.
Your head falls unto the shoulder of the boy sitting next to you, slowly giving into the exhaustion from running around. Jeno leaned his own head against yours, equally exhausted as you were (or maybe a lot more). His breathing was heavy and it fogged up the air before him as he exhaled.
“You okay?” he asked, shifting his head so he could turn and catch a glimpse of your face.
Blood rushes to your cheeks as you suddenly felt conscious of your appearance. You were sure you looked like a mess now with dust, dirt and blood forming a disgusting mixture on your skin and clothes.
But Jeno noticed your hesitance and it amused him. You watch as his eyes disappeared into semi-concave lines right as a chuckle escapes his lips. You feel the familiar sting of wounds re-opening on your chapped lips as you broke into a smile yourself. That was the only moment of tranquility you’ve had in the past few hours you’ve been running around.
Where you would’ve been if your knight in shining leather jacket didn’t drop by to save you last midnight, you couldn’t imagine it.
“Let me tell you something,” he uttered, turning sideways to face you.
You mirror him, sitting with your legs crossed before you and leaning in to whatever he had to say.
Jeno leaded forward until his face was close enough that his breath would fan your ear. “You’re not making it off this roof deck alive.”
Your smile turned into a frown. His words don’t fully sink in yet with your mind being in a state of denial that there was no way that the same person who kept you alive up until this point was the very same person foretelling your tragic fate now. You wanted to pull away but your body was too exhausted to even move a muscle. If you managed to stand, where would you go? Down the stairwell where the rest of the Neos waited for you?
“I promised to keep you safe from them,” Jeno muttered, running the back of his hand down the side of your face. “But not from me.”
The knife Jeno had been keeping tucked in his pocket was sharp and it sliced through the skin of your neck neatly. Your blood spurts out of the slash, spraying onto his chest before dripping down your neck. Now you realized why he wore black even when it meant absorbing all the heat. It absorbed the color of blood pretty well too.
Your hand reached up to grab your throat, attempting to block the blood source with your shaky fingers but to no avail. Breathing was painful, gulping down your own saliva was even worse. Eventually, blood started spilling out your mouth.
“Did you know I never quit?” Jeno said. “They kicked me out because I nearly killed a Neo. The only way I could get back was if my unit vouched for my return. The only way to do that was by helping in this year’s games.”
You listened to him, even when you didn’t want to. But in the last moments of your life, you couldn’t wish for anything more but an explanation as to why it had to end this way.
“Of course, I couldn’t have the rest of the Neos knowing that I was still a part of the game or that Taeyong offered me a spot back in. I had to do what I needed to,” he continued.
He then grabbed your shoulders to push you off of him. You thought he’d push you right off the building, but he only propped you up so he could have a good look at your face.
“Thank you,” he uttered.
You saw him smile as your eyes fluttered shut, not having the strength to pry them open anymore. He lets you fall back into place—on his chest, caged in the arms of your own murderer. He gives you a squeeze and you choke up more blood again, staining the back of his leather jacket.
The rumors were right, they were nothing but cold blooded killers.
“Lee Jeno, you crazy fuck!” You heard a voice say as soon as the roofdeck door swung open. “You promised that we’ll win this year! You should’ve run me over when you had the chance earlier because I feel like I could kill you right now.” Donghyuck shouted, stomping all the way from the entrance to where you both sat.
Jaemin hits Donghyuck’s chest with the back of his palm as he pointed out that the scene wasn’t something straight out of a cheesy television series. It was enough to shut the latter up.
Jeno cleared his throat. “How many did you manage to tick off the kill list?” Jeno asked, stroking your back as if to comfort you. You’ve started to feel numb moments ago that you could barely feel his touch.
“6,” Yangyang answered, half-listening to the conversation and half-engulfed in the view on top of the skyscraper.
“There were only 19 names on the list this year. Taeyong said every team worked hard this year, I’m assuming it’s all a tie now and the 19th one is sitting right here.” he said, patting your head the way a parent would pat the head of a baby to help them fall asleep.
“Classic Lee Jeno,” Renjun remarked. “You really tricked Taeyong and you had him chasing you around, offering you to come back.”
You could hear the laughter bubble in his chest, “What did you want me to do? Tell them I was secretly working with you so y’all would lose?”
They all shared an amused laugh. It echoes in your head like a broken record, a reminder of the series of bad decisions that led you up to that very moment. How stupid of you to believe that you could’ve made it out alive even when you knew no one ever managed to do so. Jeno did a really good job of convincing you that you had a chance.
Your heart aches at the betrayal.
“Welcome back to the Neos, Lee Jeno.”
You pictured the taunting tattoos of the 6-legged spider on the back of each of their hands. Their triumphant laughter was one of the last things you heard before you slipped into darkness again, cradled in your own killer’s arms.
The clock struck 7 and the sirens down below began to wail again. The Purge was over and they won the game again.
© neo-shitty, 2021
