Consciousness returned to Sangwoo in cruel fragments. The pounding in his head was relentless, and his neck felt stiff. He attempted to move, but the sensation was fleeting—his arms and legs were bound securely, rendering him immobile.
Sangwoo tried to open his eyes, but there was a heaviness over his eyelids of what felt like a weighted blindfold. His eyes darted about as he tried to get ahold of his surroundings, his jaw ached front he strain of the cloth gag that forced his mouth open, the taste stale from his own dried saliva.
But the restrictions to his senses only heightened his ears as he realized quickly that he wasn't alone.
He tried to turn his head, but the sensation of a collar around his neck was distinctly uncomfortable, its rigidity making it worst on his pounding head.
Without warning, fingers grazed the side of his neck, adjusting the collar to ease some of the discomfort. He instinctively jerked away. The collar felt heavy as a metallic sound followed—a chain?
"I get he was worried, but Hyunbae really went overboard," a voice muttered, one that resonated with faint recognition.
His foggy memories from the previous night crept back in. A bar. The woman he was sure he had lured home. His plans for her. The narrative became muddled after that, but that voice, he remembered it distinctly towards the end.
A chuckle bubbled up from the pit of his stomach, muffled by the gag. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on him. Captured. Him, of all people. Who had managed such a feat? A classmate with a grudge? Or had a relative of one of his many victims figured him out?
Either way, this didn't feel like the hasty act of an amateur. It was all too deliberate.
As the fingers traced along Sangwoo's arm, they sent a chill up his spine despite their warmth. But it was the sensation of his captor's head settling onto his chest, the rhythmic thrum of his heart becoming a central focus, that startled Sangwoo.
The content sigh that followed only confused him further, whoever his captor was he was clearly deranged.
"You don't know how long I've waited for this," the voice murmured, the sound vibrations moving through Sangwoo's skin. "To hear your heartbeat... to know you're real..."
Despite his restrained position, Sangwoo attempted to shift, discomfort clear in his every muffled protest. "Mmph!"
The man above him seemed to snap back from some far-off place, regret tinging his words. "I'm so sorry. It must be uncomfortable with that blindfold and gag. But... can you understand the need for caution?"
Sangwoo managed a grunted response behind his gag, the ambiguity of the sound hinting at both annoyance and begrudging acknowledgment.
Taking a deep breath, the man slowly said, "Okay. As a gesture of goodwill, I'll remove the blindfold."
As the world came into hazy view, the face of Yoonah immediately filled Sangwoo's vision. Yet, with makeup removed, the dark circles and weariness on display, it was clear this was no longer the Yoonah he remembered. The short hair, draped meticulously over forlorn eyes, hinted at a vulnerability that he wouldn't expect on his would be captor.
The man whispered, "You've been asleep for a a full day... I worried maybe I gave you too much."
The memories from that night flooded back, but Sangwoo remained impassive, his frown deepening as he registered the concern in the man's eyes. The face was undeniably familiar, yet the man's demeanor seemed far removed from Yoonah's coquettish act.
With a trembling hand reaching towards Sangwoo's face, the man's voice quivered. "Please, don't look at me like that. I really regret this, even if it was necessary."
Sangwoo's anger bubbled behind the gag, his attempt to voice his frustration rendered incomprehensible by the cloth. Watching the captor's fingers inch closer to the gag, then withdraw, only added to his seething ire. Sangwoo's hands clenched tightly, the bed's restraints offering no reprieve from this intimate torment.
Yoon Bum spoke in a peculiar mix of excitement and trepidation. "Don't worry, Sangwoo. I'll take the gag off, but you have to promise to cooperate, okay?"
Sangwoo gave a slight nod, biding his time for now. As they removed the cloth, he winced and tried to get rid of the discomfort.
"Does it hurt?" Yoon Bum inquired with what seemed to be genuine concern. "You might have a headache. I have painkillers?"
"Do you really think I'd trust anything you give me?" Sangwoo asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"That makes sense." Yoon Bum's crestfallen expression bordered on the comical.
Taking in his surroundings, Sangwoo observed the room's attempts at normalcy: an attached bathroom, basic decor. There was a desk with a simple chair across from him. There were no windows, but the stark contrast was his restraints. They bolted the chains to the cement flooring on both ends of the futon, keeping his arms above his head and his legs stretched out to limit his movements. But the chain connected to his collar was just out of sight. All he could tell was it was longer than everything else.
"So, who are you?" Sangwoo murmured, attempting to gather as much intel as possible.
Yoon Bum hesitated for a moment. "My name is Yoon Bum," he said, almost expectantly.
Sangwoo's face remained impassive. He had no recollection of this man.
"You'll have to follow some rules while you're here," Yoon Bum began, straightening his back.
Rules? The audacity of the statement made Sangwoo's lips twitch in amusement. Sangwoo clenched his jaw, maintaining an attentive facade.
"Rule number one," Yoon Bum started, "I'll take care of your basic needs - feeding, hygiene, everything. This can be temporary. With time, you can earn these back."
Sangwoo chuckled to himself. Did his captor truly expect his obedience?
"Rule number two," Yoon Bum continued, "We will spend time every day talking. You're so distrustful, but maybe it's a good thing we're starting over. This time, we can really trust each other."
"What delusions are going on in your head?" Sangwoo snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Ignoring the jibe, Yoon Bum moved on. "Rule number three. I'll never lie to you, so in exchange, every word you speak should be the truth. I'll know if you're lying."
"How? Got a lie detector hidden somewhere?" Sangwoo mocked.
Yoon Bum's face twitched, but he pressed on, "Rule number four. You must complete a task each day. I will help you long term, but some will be hard. So it's important you complete them."
"Therapy sessions, huh? What's next? Arts and crafts? Maybe some journaling to express my feelings?" Sangwoo's tone was mocking, his eyes narrowing with scorn. "I hope your tasks are more entertaining than this conversation."
"Rule number five, Rewards and Punishments," Yoon Bum's voice was slightly firmer now, "Behave, and you'll earn privileges. Misbehave, and there will be consequences."
Sangwoo raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Like what?"
Yoon Bum cleared his throat, continuing, "Rule number six. Any effort to escape will lead to penalties. And last," Yoon Bum hesitated, his voice wavering a bit, "Rule number seven. This time, you're not allowed to harm me."
"And if I hurt you?" Sangwoo's tone was almost playful, challenging.
Yoon Bum paused, glancing away. "I hope that you don't.. I don't want to punish you, Sangwoo. I just... I hope you understand."
Sangwoo's expression remained unfazed, but internally, he grinned. His captor was in way over his head. For now, Sangwoo decided, he'd humor him, biding his time until he could flip the situation in his favor.
"So, what's the purpose here? You going to kill me, torture me?" Sangwoo asked, feigning a tremble in his voice.
The reaction was instantaneous. Yoon Bum's face drained of color, his eyes widening in horror. Seeing that vulnerability, Sangwoo smirked, pushing himself up slightly against the restraints of the bed, relishing the squirm of discomfort in Yoon Bum's eyes.
"Or is this a kink thing? You seem the perverted type." Sangwoo quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
To his surprise, Yoon Bum's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink. "Ah, no! It isn't like that! I mean, not unless you wanted to. I... I think we should get to know each other again first."
Sangwoo's brow arched, noting the use of the word 'again'. "Again? We know each other?" He tried to think back, but no memory of Yoon Bum emerged.
Yoon Bum took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging. "There's so much I need to explain. But I want you to know you're somewhere safe, Sangwoo."
"Safe? Being restrained to a bed in an unfamiliar room by someone claiming to know me? Your understanding of safety seems absurdly flawed," Sangwoo drawled, the amusement clear in his voice.
"I regret how I got you here, but it was necessary," Yoon Bum said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sangwoo's eyes flashed, a sardonic grin stretching his lips. "So, you've tied me to this bed just for the fun of it?"
"No, Sangwoo," Yoon Bum's voice shook, his eyes darting away for a moment before returning with a vulnerable glint. "It's because... I love you."
Sangwoo paused, his smirk deepening. "Your idea of love is quite... terrifying, isn't it?"
Gathering himself, Sangwoo attempted a softer approach, his voice dripping with faux concern. "But if you really love me, wouldn't you loosen these restraints a bit? They're hurting."
Yoon Bum's gaze slowly shifted to Sangwoo's wrists, where the red, chafed skin bore witness to their tightness. His eyes, swirling with myriad emotions, bore into Sangwoo's for a lingering moment before he whispered, "You haven't earned the privilege of freedom yet. But soon, if you cooperate."
Sangwoo feigned innocence. "I said I'd cooperate, didn't? You're acting like I'm the dangerous one here."
A shadow passed over Yoon Bum's features, a weight darkening his gaze. "Those girls didn't see it coming," he murmured, his tone a mix of pity and envy. "Your charm, your looks, your lies entranced them."
Yoon Bum's fingers wandered, trailing a light touch up the length of his leg. Sangwoo could barely register the sensation as they trailed up his torso over his thrumming heart. "I'm sure they were fun for a while, but you and I both know that they can't fill the void here, not like I can."
Sangwoo tilted his head, studying Yoon Bum. There was a strange mix of envy and sadness in Yoon Bum's gaze, as if the very idea of Sangwoo's attention lingering on another was torturous for him. If Yoon Bum was aware of Sangwoo's deeds, then he also knew none of those girls had survived. Yet, there was an unsettling sense of jealousy in Yoon Bum's tone. It was a perplexing, morbid kind of envy. Sangwoo found it both fascinating and grotesque.
"Do you feel jealous? Would you rather be the one under my knife? I could make it happen if you release me now. I can make it good for both of us."
Yoon Bum didn't retreat from Sangwoo's offer. "I know you have darker tastes, even if you don't stop killing. That will never go away, but until you love me, I can't trust that you won't slit my throat the first chance you get."
Sangwoo's lips curled into a menacing smirk. "So, you want me to love you? Keep dreaming. When I break free from this place, you'll wish you never laid eyes on me."
But Yoon Bum, undeterred by Sangwoo's venom, drew closer. There was a softness, an unwavering dedication in his eyes. He tenderly brushed at the blond strains from Sangwoo's face. "No matter how many times we have to start over, I won't regret loving you, Sangwoo."
Sangwoo's restraint shattered. With a predatory swiftness, he latched onto Yoon Bum's arm, biting down with force. The metallic taste of blood rushed to his tongue, mingling with the twisted satisfaction of feeling skin give way beneath his teeth. Yoon Bum's cry of pain resounded in the room, filling it with a sharp, pained symphony, but Sangwoo reveled in the victorious feeling the prominent mark on the arm gave him.
However, the dynamic shifted in a heartbeat. Yoon Bum, rather than retreating, sprang to his full height from the bed, casting an imposing shadow over Sangwoo. An unsettling sensation gripped Sangwoo, memories of being overpowered by someone else from his past threatening to overwhelm. The surge of saliva, he felt, was almost reflexive, a subconscious reaction to a remembered threat as he swallowed it back.
His instincts kicked in, pushing him to camouflage his fleeting sense of vulnerability. With a smirk, blood still smeared on his lips, he taunted, "Just a taste of what's in store for you."
Yet the room's ambiance had undeniably shifted. The bite mark on Yoon Bum's arm stood out vividly against the pallor of his skin, and Sangwoo took in the man's entirety standing before him. Yoon Bum's fitted black short-sleeved shirt clung to his petite frame, while the jeans showcased slender legs and curving hips. Although they were now covered, Sangwoo remembered the alluring skin beneath the denim.
With a cruel smile, Sangwoo taunted, "What now, lover boy? Going to punish your naughty captive?"
The room went cold as Yoon Bum's trembling hand revealed the remote, an ominous weight settling on Sangwoo's chest. "You said you'd cooperate," Yoon Bum's voice, brittle with despair, sounded so distant.
Sangwoo's chuckle echoed, biting and derisive. "And you trusted me? With all your talk of 'knowing' me, you really are an idiot, just like those girls."
Yoon Bum's glistening eyes locked onto his, vulnerability battling with determination. "I had hoped," he murmured, the cracks in his voice betraying his heartache, "that somewhere inside you'd remember... something."
Sangwoo's lips curled into a cruel slash across his face. "Here's a reality check for you: you're nothing to me. So keep your pathetic fantasies to yourself."
The weight in the room shifted again as Yoon Bum mumbled, "Rule number Seven." The next second, a brutal current shot through Sangwoo, every cell screaming in torment, every muscle writhing involuntarily. It felt like molten fire poured into his veins, an assault on his very being.
A fierce sting in his eyes blurred vision. He fought to suppress a reaction, unwilling to give Yoon Bum that satisfaction. But his throat constricted, choking back any sounds of pain.
And then, silence. Drenched and gasping, his heart raged, not from panic, but a simmering anger. The dim room felt more claustrophobic, the bed more restrictive.
His lungs slowly adjusted, and his vision sharpened, seething with dark promises. That bastard was going to pay.
"What the fuck did you do to me?" he asked, his voice raw and tinged with fury from the ordeal.
"Why does it have to be this way? Why am I the only one to remember?"
Through the haze of his fury, he saw Yoon Bum, just as shattered, tears carving paths down his face, the bite mark bleeding afresh.
Amid the bizarre situation he found himself in, Sangwoo eyed Yoon Bum, a mix of contempt and something else, maybe curiosity? Despite everything, a perverse respect had been forged. The man might not be physically imposing, but he wasn't weak willed.
"You're quite the character, aren't you?" Sangwoo drawled, the words dripping with tired amusement.
"And you haven't changed one bit," Yoon Bum replied, almost nostalgically.
Sangwoo frowned, genuinely perplexed. The words, the tone, everything showed familiarity. "What do you keep going on about? Do we know each other or not?"
Looking drained, Yoon Bum slumped beside Sangwoo. Although he kept a tight grip on that dreaded remote, his other hand gently rested on Sangwoo's chest, as if grounding himself to the rapid heartbeat beneath. "We did. Once."
He chuckled, arrogance tinting his words. "I think I'd remember someone like you."
"Not in this lifetime," Yoon Bum whispered, his voice trailing.
Sangwoo's brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"
A melancholy shade washed over Yoon Bum's face. "You'll understand, in time. And when you do, you'll love me again."
Sangwoo snorted, disdain in his words. "You're aware I don't swing that way, right?"
Yoon Bum's gaze darkened, irritated. "You've said that too. But it'll change."
There was something hauntingly sincere about Yoon Bum's conviction. "I realize now that this will take time, but I can be patient. No one will get between us this time. I'm going to save you from experiencing the most painful death."
That comment, those words... it sent a shiver down Sangwoo's spine. It felt like an old memory, a woman's voice echoing with familiar sinister promise. "What do you mean?" Sangwoo demanded, but before Yoon Bum could answer, his phone rang.
Sangwoo tried to eavesdrop, and amidst the conversation, the name 'Hyunbae' appeared again.
Ending the call, Yoon Bum rose, ignoring Sangwoo's barrage of questions. "Trust is a process," he remarked coolly. And with that, he turned off the lights, leaving Sangwoo in the disorienting darkness. The feeling of being ensnared, trapped, was overwhelming, but Sangwoo's mind raced, trying to piece together the puzzle.