Blood, Sweat and Tears.- Back to Hell

Chapter 2: Marked

Silence. It's a horrible thing. It's one of the most painful experiences I have ever lived through. Silence can make a person go mad. It can easily break the strongest of soldiers and assassins, cause with complete silence; you are left with your own thoughts. 

In one way, your mind works as a prison. It will devour you with all types of feelings and emotions. It can make you feel like your floating on clouds, but at the same time, your mind can cause you the worst of tortures. Your mind is your worst nightmare and when you combine it with silence, you have a recipe for disaster.

Another setting that can often be associated with silence is waiting and waiting can also be used as a torture method. That's what happened to me. It almost broke me. The first 12 hours in the house I was left in complete silence. Just waiting. Waiting for a sign, a noise. Anything that would take my mind of what I was actually thinking about. I was punishing myself. How could I have been so stupid to think that my nightmare would be over? Was I really this naïve?

Before my mind could answer me, the door to my left creaked open, revealing a rather tall man. He had a slim figure and as he approached me, I saw a scar running from the corner of his forehead down to his left eye. I immediately recognised him, James. Yoongi had managed to slide his scalpel across his face when they were fighting. He told me about it back when we were still in the hospital and he was rather proud over the fact that he had managed to leave a mark that would never disappear as they had done to him. He had later showed me the letters that Burn face had carved into his hip, it made me shrug thinking about the pain he must have experienced.

Before more thoughts could manage to fill my head, I was yanked from the sitting position I was in and forced out of the room. My hands were still aching from being chained behind my back for almost a day now and my mouth had long since dried out as I still weren't allowed to talk. Pulling me down the dark corridor, James stopped in front of a steel door. Grabbing a set of keys from his hind pocket, he unlocked it and shoved me inside.

The blood ran cold in my veins as I looked over at the steel table that was welded to the floor. It had restrains attached to it and I immediately retracted backwards as my mind crossed the thought of what might happen to me. Turning on my heels, I ran straight into James who looked down at me smirking before he proceeded to lift me up and throw me over his shoulder. I kicked and screamed, but with my petite body, I wasn't much of a fight.

Helplessly I was carried over to the metal table and with a strong force, James threw me down on it. I whimpered as the cold metal made contact with my bare skin as James proceeded to loosen the handcuffs behind my back. "Put your hands over your head." James commanded and I reluctantly obeyed, being too scared and too weak to try and fight him. Again I could feel the cold metal lock around my wrists and when James did the same to my ankles, I knew that I wasn't going anywhere soon.

I used all my concentration on keeping my arms and feet still as I felt the metal slowly digging into my skin. It was so painful and I whimpered again, feeling my heart pounding. I turned my head towards the door as it opened, revealing a grinning Burn face followed by 2 of his men, one of them carrying a silver suitcase. He smiled as he walked up to me, dragging a chair from the corner with him; he sat down, studying my body from head to toe, making me cringe.

"You thought it was over didn't you? But I would never give up on you baby boy. You're going to be mine forever" He smiled at me and I could feel my heart crushing into a thousand pieces. This time I was sure. There was absolutely no chance that I was leaving this place and he was gonna make sure that I would stay with him forever.

I turned my face around towards the man who had walked up to me on the other side of the table. Putting his suitcase down on a little stand, he clicked both the locks and the lid popped open. I wiggled as the man proceeded to pull up my T-shirt, exposing my pale waist and chest. Burn face smiled as he noticed the 3 scars from where his cigarettes had made contact with my skin about 6 months ago.

My eyes widened seeing the man pull out something that looked like a hybrid of a gun and a drill, but I immediately knew what it was when he pulled out 2 bottles of black ink. Chills ran down my spine when I realised what was gonna happened and tears left my eyes. 

I didn't want to be marked.

I wiggled in my holds, ignoring the shooting pain that was screaming from my wrists and ankles, but my motions suddenly came to a stop when Burn face laid his gun on my chest. I didn't want to take my eyes off the little black hole that could end my life before I could even blink my eyes, but my vision travelled down to my right hipbone as reality hit me and I knew I wouldn't be able to stop it.

In the beginning the pain was excruciating, which I found odd, as I have heard that getting a tattoo isn't as painful as some people make it out to be, but in my case it was different. I didn't volunteer for this, I was forced and I couldn't do anything about it. The pain slowly became bearable, but I don't know if it was because the man was getting closer to finishing his work or if it was because I tried my best to think about other things.

I wondered what my brothers were doing. Were they looking for me? They shouldn't be. They should forget about me and move along with their lives, they will never find me; I had been doomed to spend the rest of my life in hell.