Chapter 111

The door opened again, revealing Yoongi, Namjoon, and Hobi. Their faces were calm. “Is he alright now?” Namjoon asked Haein. She hummed and said, “He was exhausted! He is fine now, just sleeping!” Haein responded. They hummed and sat down.

Jin looked at Hobi and spoke, his voice calm, “I told you to be on time, right!” “He is with Tae… and I was worried about you!” he said. Jin sighed and looked away.

“Appa… I… I don’t know why you hid all this from us for years… and… I… I am really disappointed. Tell us what happened from the start!” Yoongi said. Voice calm yet firm.

Hyunwoo chuckled bitterly and said, “If I tell you all, will you be strong enough to bear that?” Everyone looked at him, confused.

He then spoke, starting to tell them what really happened..

What happened?

“Haein-ah.” Hyunwoo looked at her directly. His voice was measured not soft exactly, but careful. “Do you remember the day Jungkook came back to hyung after almost a year? After Hyesuk noona died…”

Haein slowly nodded.

“Everything was fine then,” Hyunwoo continued. “After hyesuk noona was dead…. Hyung was guilty. Genuinely guilty…. and it showed in everything he did. He didn’t lay a single finger on him. He pampered him completely. Those two months….” He paused.

“Those two months were the best of Jungkook’s life. Hyung never scolded him. Never forced him into anything. Never raised his voice. He fed him with his own hands. He slept beside him. Was there with him whenever he got a nightmare. He comforted him and he… he made everything around him happy. Making everything happy just for him. He made that boy smile every single day.”

The room was very quiet. Everyone listened with no words.

“But then,” Hyunwoo said. “After those two months… something happened. Something that changed everything. That was the first time hyung became truly, deeply angry again. And instead of controlling it…..” Hyunwoo’s jaw tightened slightly, “he had Matteo punish his own son for it.”

Jin said nothing. No one said nothing. Still listening. Still processing.

Hyunwoo looked down for a moment. Then back up.

“That day….” he said slowly. “Matteo Jordan, the son of Emilio Jordan. The Shadow.” He let the name settle. “Emilio was hyung’s closest friend. They had known each other for years. And that day…” he paused, his voice dropping just slightly “Matteo was killed. Brutally. By Suho.”

The silence that followed was absolute.

Jin’s expression didn’t change on the surface. But something behind his eyes shifted quietly, and very deeply.

Haein stared at Hyunwoo. Her lips parted slightly but no words came out. Hobi still listening as usual he was calm and composed. 

Namjoon stayed curious and calm. Yoongi stayed silent tho his fists clenched.

Because now slowly, the rotten fruit which was the secrets, piece by devastating piece the shape of it was beginning to make sense.

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Flashback #1

Jungkook lay on the cold basement floor.

His entire back was covered in bruises, layers upon layers of them, each one a different shade of damage. His leg carried a burn marks, it burned with a pain so deep and constant it had stopped feeling like pain and started feeling like fire that simply lived there now. His shirt was soaked through dark and heavy with his own blood.

“Appa….” he mumbled. His voice was barely sound. “It… It hurts….”

His eyes were half closed. His breathing shallow. He just lay there on the cold floor, cheek pressed against the concrete, mumbling the only word that still came naturally. Appa.

The door opened.

“Ehi, bravo ragazzo!” The voice rang out in Italian oud, cheerful, completely out of place in that cold and bloody room. Jungkook’s whole body shivered before he had even fully registered who it was.

Matteo. Matteo Jordan

He walked in like he owned the air in the room. Like the boy bleeding on the floor was simply furniture he found mildly interesting. He crouched down beside Jungkook, tilting his head, studying him with that easy, unbothered smile.

“You know what I brought you a surprise today.” He reached into his jacket. “Brand new. Very limited. Very special.” His smile widened. “It will make you see heaven in minutes.”

He sat down fully beside Jungkook, one hand reaching out and running slowly through his hair.

Jungkook flinched so violently at the touch that his whole body curled inward.

Matteo didn’t stop.

“One small disadvantage though,” he continued conversationally, like they were old friends catching up. “It’s not recommended for someone like you. It’s designed for adults thirty, forty years old. Fully developed. Strong enough to handle what it does to the body.” He tilted his head. “But you are not even close to that, are you, little one?”

His thumb moved slowly across Jungkook’s temple. Jungkook visibly flinched at that.

“I want to see what it does to a boy like you.” His voice dipped lower softer, and somehow far more frightening for it. “It is called the Crystal blue heaven. The drug may have heaven in it. But… its still a drug. For someone like you. It will hurt. I won’t lie to you about that. But trust me, Jungkook-ah….” He paused.

Let the silence sit. Then smiled again and the smile didn’t reach anything behind it. “You will forget everything. Every single thing around you. You will feel peace like you have never felt before.”

He leaned in slightly closer.

“But in some cases…. it goes the other way. Instead of heaven….” his eyes gleamed “you see hell. Every fear. Every nightmare. Everything you have ever tried to forget all at once.” He pulled back and tilted his head again, almost thoughtfully. “And personally? I am hoping for that one.”

He patted Jungkook’s cheek once. “Your appa doesn’t know about this, by the way. So let’s keep it between us, hmm?”

Panic broke through the fog of pain instantly.

Jungkook started to move scrambling, pushing himself backward across the floor with whatever strength his broken body still had. “No…. No, leave me…. I’m sorry…. I’m sorry, please….”

He was crying now. Shaking so hard his teeth chattered.

“Ohh, my poor little boy,” Matteo said softly, reaching for him. “Trust me. You will be fine!!!”

“No… leave me! please…” Jungkook slid back against the wall, legs scrabbling against the concrete, hands leaving bloody smears on the floor.

Matteo’s expression didn’t change. He simply looked to the side and gestured  one small, casual movement of his hand.

The minions moved immediately.

Hands grabbed Jungkook from both sides iron grips closing around his arms, pinning him still against the floor. He thrashed against them, every movement sending fresh pain screaming through his back and leg.

“AHHH!! let me go! let me go please.. I’m sorry…. I’m sorry!” His voice broke completely.

“APPA!!!” The scream tore out of him raw and desperate the kind of scream that came from somewhere beneath words, beneath thought pure and primal and terrified.

“APPA!!! APPA!!” He cried. He cried for help. He cried for his dad. But his appa wasn’t there. The basement walls swallowed the sound whole.

Matteo opened the box slowly. Inside, cushioned carefully, was a syringe. But not like any Jungkook had seen before, it was large. Unnervingly large. The kind of thing that looked like it had not been made for a body like his.

Jungkook stared at it.

And the scream that had been in his throat dissolved into something smaller and more broken a low, trembling whimper that he couldn’t stop even if he tried. “No…. No, please…. Matteo, please…. I am sorry! I will do anything… please don’t please…” He was shaking so hard the hands holding him had to tighten just to keep him still.

Matteo didn’t care. He reached for the vial, a deep, unnatural blue. The name of the drug was the fittest. It was crystal blue. He drew the fluid slowly into the syringe, watching it fill with the quiet focus of someone who had done this before and felt nothing about it.

Then he turned back to Jungkook.

“No… no, please…” Jungkook shook his head frantically, tears streaming, whole body trembling against the hands holding him. “Appa! APPA! leave me… I’m sorry, I will be good, I promise I will be good! I’m sorry…. please… please don’t”

He was screaming. Straining against the grip on his arms with everything he had left which wasn’t much. His body was already broken before this room. Before tonight.

One of the minions wrenched his arms back, tilting his head forcefully to one side until the line of his neck was fully exposed, pale and vulnerable under the cold basement light.

Matteo approached without hurry.

He tore open an alcohol swab and wiped the skin at Jungkook’s neck clinical, unhurried, almost gentle. The cold of it made Jungkook shudder violently.

“No no, don’t! p-please…” His voice was dissolving. Becoming something smaller and more broken with every second. “Please…. Please…”

Matteo positioned the needle. The needle pressed against the skin. And then it broke through.

“AHHHH” The pain was immediate and searing not just from the needle but from the sheer size of it, forcing through tissue that had no way to prepare for something like that. Jungkook cried out a sound completely stripped of any composure, any dignity, anything at all except pure pain and terror.

Matteo pressed the plunger slowly.

The blue fluid moveddisappearing into Jungkook’s bloodstream, second by second, his body having no choice but to receive it. It took nearly more than 30 second. Every second of it felt longer than it had any right to.

Then Matteo pulled the needle free.

Blood welled immediately at the puncture site, running in a thin line down the side of Jungkook’s neck. The minions released him. He dropped crying.

He hit the basement floor and just lay there not moving, not screaming anymore. His hands twitched once. Then again. His eyes were open but already somewhere else glassy and unfocused and drifting.

The crying was slow now. The effect was already moving through him.

“Appa…” he mumbled. Barely a sound. His lips moved more than his voice did.

Then the world began to shift. Slowly at first, the ceiling fan above him stretching and warping. The bench against the wall breathing in and out like something alive. His own hand, lying on the floor in front of his face, bending at angles that hands didn’t bend. The figures around him elongating, their faces sliding out of shape.

Then the hallucinations came fully.

His mother. Hyesuk.

She was lying on the floor across the basement, completely still, completely covered in blood. Dark and spreading and so much of it.

“Eo-eomma…” he whispered confused.

And then the body moved.

It rose slowly, wrongly, in a way that human bodies didn’t rise. And when it turned to face him, it wasn’t his mother’s face anymore. It was something wearing his mother’s face. Eyes black. Mouth open. Covered head to toe in blood that seemed to still be moving, still spreading, still growing.

Jungkook scrambled backward across the floor, his broken body screaming in pain that he could barely register anymore.

“No…. no no no….”

More faces appeared. More figures. Crawling out of the corners of the room, dropping from the ceiling, rising from the floor. All of them wrong. All of them bleeding. All of them looking at him.

“AHHHH! Nooo noo noo” He screamed. He pressed himself into the wall and screamed and couldn’t stop screaming hands clawing at the floor, at his own face, at anything because there was blood everywhere now. On the walls. On the floor. On his hands. On his skin. Everywhere he looked, everywhere he turned. Blood.

“NO… NO… AHHH! NO NO Nooo”

Behind him, on the other side of the room, Matteo leaned back against the wall. Relaxed. Entertained. He watched Jungkook writhe and scream on the basement floor with the casual interest of someone watching something mildly amusing on a screen. He smiled slowly.

“Looks like he went to hell instead of heaven,” he said. The others laughed.

And Jungkook kept screaming alone on that cold concrete floor, completely lost inside a nightmare that only he could see, calling out for someone who never came. While the people who put him there stood and watched and laughed.

Flashback #2

The door burst open. Suho stood in the doorway, chest heaving, panting hard, eyes scanning the room in one sharp sweep. Then he saw him. The bubbly boy. Who always smiled loudly and made everyone happy and smile.

“JUNGKOOK” His voice cracked on the name.

Jungkook was on the floor, curled into himself completely, knees pulled to his chest, hands pressed over his ears, eyes squeezed shut so tightly his whole face was scrunched with it.

He was still screaming broken, terrified sounds shaking violently, lost somewhere so deep inside the hallucination that nothing from the outside world was reaching him.

Matteo and the others turned. Their expressions shifted from entertained to annoyed in the span of a second.

Suho didn’t look at them. Not yet. He crossed the room immediately and dropped to his knees beside Jungkook.

“Kook-ah….” His voice dropped low and urgent and gentle all at once. “Look at hyungie, baby. I’m here. Look at me”

Jungkook flinched so violently at the sound that his whole body recoiled. He pressed himself further into the wall, hands flying back over his ears.

“No… no… don’t… AHHHH…no”

Suho exhaled sharply. He reached out, slowly, carefully, and placed his hand over Jungkook’s trembling one.

Jungkook’s eyes flew open. But it wasn’t Suho he saw.

It was a figure soaked in blood face destroyed, eyes hanging wrongly from the sockets looming over him. He screamed. He cried loudly.

He scrambled backward so fast he slammed into the wall, hyperventilating now, chest heaving in rapid shallow bursts, whole body shaking uncontrollably.

Suho gulped. He took a slow step forward. Behind him, Matteo raised one hand and gestured lazily.

A minion moved…. stepping forward, reaching for Suho’s arm. Suho’s elbow came back first.

The crack of impact was immediate,  his fist connecting with the man’s face so hard that blood sprayed instantly. The man dropped with a choked cry.

And then the rest of them came.

What followed was brief and absolute. Suho moved through the room like something that couldn’t be stopped fists and elbows and knees, each strike landing with the kind of precision that came from years of being very, very good at hurting people when it needed to be done.

One by one they went down hitting the floor hard, not getting back up. The basement filled with the sounds of impact and groaning and then silence.

Suho straightened. He looked at Jungkook.

He was on the very edge of consciousness now eyes half open, seeing nothing real, body going limp against the wall.

Suho took a step toward him.

A kick landed square across his back. He stumbled forward, teeth grinding together against the pain that exploded up his spine. He caught himself. Stood up slowly.

Turned..Matteo. standing behind him, eyes sharp, not nearly as composed as he had been ten minutes ago.

Something settled in Suho’s expression. Cold and quiet and completely decided. He closed the distance in two strides and drove his fist into Matteo’s face with everything he had.

Matteo hit the floor hard. The groan that came out of him was wet and pained. He looked up and immediately reached for the gun at his side, raising it toward Suho.

Suho was already moving.

He sidestepped the aim in one fluid motion, closed in, grabbed Matteo’s wrist and twisted one sharp, merciless rotation. The sound that came from Matteo’s arm was wrong. “ARGHHHHHH”

The scream bounced off the basement walls. The gun clattered to the floor. Matteo’s arm bent at an angle that arms were never meant to bend.

Suho leaned down close. “You touched the wrong person,” he said quietly and it sent shivers to Matteo.

Then he wrenched the arm further.

Matteo’s scream went higher tears streaming down his face now, whole body convulsing with the pain of it, his free hand scrabbling uselessly at the floor. He could literally feel his bone poking out.

Suho straightened. He looked around. His eyes landed on the syringe still lying where Matteo had left it, still stained with that blue fluid and little of jungkook’s blood, still carrying the remnants of what had been done with it.

He picked it up. He looked at Matteo and spoke cold and firm “no one will even dare to look at your face!” And then, without a word, he drove the needle directly into Matteo’s eye.

The scream that came out was unlike anything human. Raw and animal and absolute. Matteo’s body arching off the floor, his uninjured hand flying to his face, fingers clutching and clawing at the syringe buried there.

Suho stood over him and started hitting.

Each punch drove the needle deeper. Matteo’s screams dissolved into something that barely qualified as sound anymore just noise, just pain, just the consequence of what he had chosen to do tonight in this basement to a boy who had done nothing to deserve any of it.

When Matteo was barely moving when the sounds coming from him were reduced to wet, broken whimpering Suho stopped. He was already half dead.

He stood up. He picked up the gun from the floor. He looked down at Matteo’s face destroyed, barely recognisable and pulled the trigger.

Then again. And again.

He kept firing until the chamber clicked empty long past the point where it was necessarystanding over him in complete silence except for the sound of each shot echoing in that cold, enclosed space.

Then it was quiet.

Suho stood there for a moment. Breathing hard. Chest rising and falling in deep, heavy waves. Blood on his hands. Blood on the floor. The basement smelling of gunpowder and iron.

He turned.

Jungkook had slipped fully to the ground completely unconscious now, lying on his side on the cold concrete, face slack, lips slightly parted. So small. So still.

Suho crossed the room and knelt beside him. Carefully gently, in a way that was at complete odds with everything that had just happened he slid his arms beneath Jungkook’s body and lifted him.

Jungkook’s head fell against his chest. His body was limp and cold and far too light.

Suho held him close.

And without a word to the room full of bodies behind him, he walked out carrying the boy in his bloody arms, moving through the dark with nothing but the singular, burning purpose of getting him somewhere safe.

He was admitted to the ICU immediately. The moment the doors closed behind them, Suho stepped into the corridor still covered in blood, hands shaking for the first time all night and called Hyunwoo.

It rang twice.

“Uncle….” His voice came out cracked and broken. Not the voice of the person who had just dismantled an entire room of men without blinking something much younger than that. Much more afraid. “M-Matteo drugged K-Kookie…. He drugged with Blue heaven….He…. He’s in the ICU.”

Silence on the other end.

Then the call ended.

Hyunwoo was in Germany that day. He boarded a flight within the hour. Overnight. No hesitation.

Wohoo! Guess who updated!

Anyway how was it? It was soooo traumatizing for me to even write it. Especially that injection part and matteo’s eyes part. I am traumatized.

Actually I was sooo confused to write the flashback parts! So divided it!

Upto now you have seen flashback 1 and 2. Upcoming will be little emotional maybe?

Guess what! I’ve completed all the hyunwoo’s pov flashbacks already! So just wait guys! I’ll give you alll updates!

But you should comment. Okay for TDY! If you all complete 50+ votes! I’ll update TMR very soon! I promise!