Believe Again: Taken

A/N: WARNING: Violence in the second part of the chapter, rated T.

MC was right, as always. Having Jumin on board made things so much easier. Despite what the man felt towards Saeran for causing V's death, he did not hesitate to offer his help and spared no resource and effort to build a solid team for the mission.

Saeyoung felt a small twinge of guilt at all the jokes he liked to make about Jumin's stoniness and apparent lack of emotion. When Jumin replied instantly to offer his help, Saeyoung had to be honest: he had tears welling up in his eyes. Deep down, Jumin was kind. Maybe insensitive and lacking a good sense of humour at times, but he was a true friend in a time of need. And they needed all the help they could get if they wanted to get Saeran out of that building with no man left behind.

Saeyoung had spent the past week analysing the map and Vanderwood had been doing some groundwork as well, helping Saeyoung to set up the spy cams around the building so that they would be able to monitor the comings and goings of the followers. Park Ha Yoon hadn't said or done anything since their last conversation, and Saeyoung took it as a good thing: the main thing that bastard wanted was to be left alone to conduct his experiments, undisturbed. Silence had to be a good thing for now, and the only comfort Saeyoung had was that Saeran was being kept alive at least.

Still, the thought of Saeran labouring under the effects of those drugs — the same drugs that had ripped his mind to shreds — tortured Saeyoung at every waking moment. Even in the brief moments when he tried to close his sore eyes to rest, he would see images of Saeran being force-fed that elixir, crying for help, crying for his brother, and Saeyoung would wake up soon after, feeling sick to his core.

The only thing keeping him sane was work, which reminded him of when he was working as an agent. The memories of working until he felt numb and could focus on nothing else but the numbers on his screen were unpleasant. The only difference between then and now was that he had MC by his side, and that was a huge difference. She was there to take care of him, even though he was worried about her. The first trimester was a sensitive period, and she needed rest, not the stress from this situation.

At first, he tried to keep her out of the loop, insisting that she play no part in the investigation. But he soon realised that only made her feel worse, and knowing that the stress wouldn't be good for the baby, he relented and filled her in on the details of the operation, having to remind her at nearly every point that his role in it would be safe and that he would come out of this alive and well, together with his brother.

Saeyoung had just ended a call with Vanderwood when he received another call from Jumin. Immediately, he reached over to pick it up. It was probably about the bodyguards that Jumin had procured for the RFA members, as well as Saeran's girlfriend, to be safe. He was probably calling to say that it had been done. Jumin was always flawless in his work.

Except, the corporate heir's voice didn't sound quite as smooth and unperturbed over the phone.

And for good reason, unfortunately.

"I have bad news. About the girl you asked me to protect, the men went over to her apartment and found it in a mess. It looks like there was a struggle."

Jumin had sent an image of said apartment. There was an open window, its glass smashed, and shards littered all over the floor.

A second image showed a crumpled piece of paper with a message scrawled on it.

Get anywhere close to Mint Eye and you'll never see the both of them again. Consider this your last warning, do not test us.

Saeyoung's heart sank, and his chest tightened till it hurt to breathe.

Jumin spoke again after a beat of silence, sounding grimmer than ever before.

"It seems we were too late."

When you came to, it was pitch black. It took a while to come to your senses and overcome the dull throb in the back of your head. When you did, panic seized you and you tried to move, only to find that your hands and legs were both tied with ropes and you were lying on the floor, unable to escape. You were blindfolded too, the fabric covering your eyes rough against your skin. You would scream for help, but there was tape over your mouth to keep you from making a sound. All you could manage were strained noises from your throat, hoping someone would come to your rescue and take you out of whatever the hell this place was.

The last thing you remembered was waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of glass breaking in your home, and when you went out to the living room to investigate, you saw broken glass, and then something hit the back of your head before you could even react to protect yourself.

And now, here you were. Your fingers traced the cold stone tiles underneath you, and you picked up the smell of sweat, blood and dust. The air was stuffy and humid, and your hair was matted to your skin, sticky from perspiration. You couldn't imagine who would kidnap you, or why. You had led a perfectly normal life, didn't mix around with bad company, and kept out of trouble your whole life. There was no remote reason for you to get caught up in this kind of danger you'd only ever seen in movies and dramas.

Your mind was whirling with questions, but no plausible answers came to mind. In any case, there was no time for this; you needed to get help and get out of here quick, before your captor came back.

You continued to generate as much noise as you could, but your volume was rapidly decreasing. Your throat was dry and sore, and every push of your diaphragm made the pounding in your head worse.

Just as you were about to give up, you heard the sound of a metal door clanging open. The loud, harsh sound rang in your ears. Footsteps, purposeful and heavy, grew louder, as did the incessant drumming of your heartbeat. Was it someone coming to save you? Or was it your captor?

A hard yank on your hair told you it was probably the latter. You whimpered at the violent pull that made your head spin and hurt even more.

"You're coming with me," an unfamiliar voice said, and the malice in it made your blood turn cold. The voice sounded like it belonged to a young man. Before you could protest, you were being dragged backwards across the floor. The friction from the rough, uneven floor burned the skin underneath your thighs, calves and heels. You tried to struggle and thrashed your limbs about to make it harder for him to bring you wherever it was he wanted you to go.

He stopped momentarily, releasing his vice-like grip on your hair. You thought with some relief that it had worked, until your thoughts were abruptly cut off by a hard kick to your stomach that knocked the wind out of your lungs.

"You fucking bitch, stop moving or I'll knock you out again, and this time I might not leave you alive," he snarled. It wasn't like you had the energy to do that, when you could barely catch your breath after receiving that hit. He grabbed you by the hair again and continued to drag you, this time with less resistance on your part as you didn't doubt that he would carry out his threat if needed. You could only whimper and groan at the rough abrasion against the floor.

You didn't know where you were being taken, and the dragging felt like it would carry on forever. Eventually he stopped, and you braced yourself for another beating. Thankfully the kick never came; he only ripped the duct tape from your mouth, the stinging pain making your eyes water.

Then he removed your blindfold, and you squinted, taking a moment to adjust to the light suddenly entering your eyes. Your vision was blurred, no doubt from the prolonged pressure on your eyes from the blindfold.

"Look who I brought to visit you, Saeran."

Wait, Saeran was here too? Why? What on earth was happening?

You still couldn't see much, only able to make out the rocking flame from what looked to be a torch, metal bars and a person in chains just a few meters in front of you. What you could make out though, was an unmistakable head of messy red hair belonging to the person bound across you.

There was a violent sound of metal chains hitting each other, and then there was a loud curse, as a long string of profanities escaped the other man's mouth.

"You bastard! You said you wouldn't touch her!"

That was Saeran's voice. You would recognise it anywhere. But… it couldn't be. Why was he here? Had he been kidnapped too?

Your vision began to clear, and soon his features came into view. His red hair was messy and greasy with dirt. He was in his black tank top and slacks, although the bandages that usually covered his right arm were gone and his clothes were battered and ripped in some areas. His body was littered with bruises, his lips bleeding and his wrists bound in chains, held above his head. He looked as pale as a ghost, mint eyes widened with horror and fury as his eyes shifted between you and your captor who was standing above you.

Your eyes fell to his exposed arm, and you fought back a gasp. There was what seemed to be a tattoo underneath a mess of cuts and scars. Some looked old, others looked newer. There was no pattern to them; it looked like a beast had gone wild, clawing indiscriminately at the skin, or more precisely, the tattoo inked on it.

Had… these people done this to him?

You shuddered at the thought, fear sinking deeper into you and wrapping around your heart like a deadly snake, as it began to dawn on you just how much danger you both were in.

"I changed my mind, after you got Eun Mi dragged into this mess," your captor replied in an icy tone. "The Saviour said I have to make you pay for interfering with our operations, or I won't be able to save Eun Mi."

"This has nothing to do with her! I already agreed to stay here."

"Wrong." As he said that, he raised his foot, and in the next moment, the sole of his shoe was pressing on your left cheek. The weight of his foot pushed your head into the rough stone floor and you whimpered, the pain in your head consuming you. You heard more profanities from Saeran, and the sound of his chains grated on your eyes. You bit down on your lips, hard enough to draw blood, trying to keep from making too much noise.

"She's here because you have to be punished somehow." His foot began to grind into your cheek, each movement causing your head to feel like it was splitting open. "She's just the start. Next it'll be your brother, his wife, and your RFA friends. One by one, we'll take them. You know what we're capable of."

"Let her go! Please! Stop hurting her!"

"No. Because of you guys, Eun Mi was hurt. I'm going to make you pay for that twofold. You'll watch her suffer, and there's nothing you can do about it, because you're a weak, worthless piece of garbage. You can't protect anything precious to you, and you will never be able to do it, because you're a good-for-nothing piece of shit."

At last, his foot was removed, but only to deliver a kick to your side. And then another. And another. More blows came to your stomach, your face, and until you were bleeding from your nose and tasted blood in your mouth. The pain was hard to bear, but you were acutely aware of Saeran who was being made to watch all of this. So you gritted your teeth, not wanting to put up the performance that your captor wanted. If his only goal was to make Saeran suffer by using you, you weren't going to let him have his way.

"You're pretty sturdy. Not bad," your captor said, above the sound of Saeran's pleas and shouts. You glared at him, the young man who had a crazed look in his eyes as he beat you, tried to make you succumb to the pain.

And as strong as you wanted to be, it worked eventually. You cried out, each blow hurting more than the last, especially when he targeted the same spots. It was getting hard to breathe, and you wouldn't be surprised if you had a broken rib or two by now.

"STOP!" Saeran finally yelled, his booming voice ricocheting off the walls of the eerie dungeon.

Surprisingly, your captor listened. He stopped, giving you some time to catch your breath. Spots were appearing in the corners of your vision, and it was hard to get a grip on your consciousness as you tried to steady your ragged breaths.

"You're right, this is getting boring. Time for something new," he mused, before reaching into his pocket. You couldn't see what he was doing since your back was turned to him, but from Saeran's screams that were now even more passionate than ever, you could only surmise it wasn't anything good.

You felt the sharp edge of a blade dig into your arm, and your heart almost stopped. You felt your body break out into a cold sweat, and all you were aware of was your heightened senses, and heart rate that was now going into overdrive.

"Please… please stop… no… please…" Survival instincts kicked in and you began to beg, tears springing to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. They stung the cuts on your cheeks and lips.

Your captor only released a dark chuckle at that.

"With this mark, you'll become one of us."

A/N: Welp hi again, I realise I started this fic when before I entered university and now i'm in my final year... Time has really gone by too quickly. And I can't believe I still have people commenting on this fic or coming back to see if I've updated. :") I do not deserve this support! Especially when I went back to read this story from the beginning to remember what it was about and ended up cringing at my writing at so many points lmao.

If you're still here and if you read this, thank you so much! Really appreciate the support, and your reads/kudos/comments really mean a lot to me. :)

I have the next chapter done already, will release it in a few days and also work on the remaining chapters as a sort of Christmas present for those of you who have been looking forward to an update. Also happy coincidence that Cheritz is going to release Ray's after ending, though I have no intentions on playing it (I don't think I have enough HG for that anyway). Congrats to those who have been eagerly awaiting its release, I hope you enjoy it :) Feel free to spoil me and let me know how you find it when you play it hehe.