#o.de angst

Sneak Peek:

00. the beginning of the end

It isn’t the damp, rusty smell that hits your nostrils the moment you wake up that alarms you.

It’s not even the burn of the rope tied against your wrists and ankles, rubbing away at your skin as you try to move.

It’s the sound of someone else moving around the room. God knows what they’re doing. Have they even noticed that you’re awake yet? It’s hard to tell without being able to see, so you decide to stay as still as possible to buy yourself time to figure out-

“You’re awake.”

The voice- deep and familiar- rings out across what you assume to be a large room, judging by the way it echoes. His footsteps are slow as he approaches you, each one making your skin crawl more than the last until they stop right in front of you.

“I’m gonna take off the gag now,” he says, his tone flat but not nearly as cruel as you expected, “If you scream, I’m putting it right back on. Do I make myself clear?”

You nod quickly, holding your breath as his fingers brush your cheek, tugging the knot loose until the cloth falls away. You take in a deep breath, happy to at least have the freedom to do that much.

“What do you want?” You ask quietly, wanting answers while being far too afraid to demand them. There’s silence for a long moment. No footsteps. No breathing outside of yours. Just straight up silence until he finally speaks again, his voice low and steady next to your ear.

“It’s not money that I want, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” he says, brushing a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “I don’t do the whole ransom thing. Way too cliché.”

Your brows draw together beneath the blindfold that’s still covering your eyes. “Then-“

“Relax. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he sighs, moving away from you and beginning to pace, from the sound of his footsteps, “I want information. I’m talking names. Schedules. Meetings. Anything you know about the officials your father works with. The ones at the top. The ones who sit in their skyscraper offices and watch the rest of us suffer below them.”

The more he talked, the more it clicked for you; this wasn’t just any kidnapper. You knew exactly who this bastard was, and that made the situation a whole lot less scary.

“Ok,” is all you can say in response, making the man stop in his tracks and, presumably, look at you.

“‘Ok?’” he repeats, chuckling to himself for a moment before clearing his throat and continuing, “That’s all you have to say? No ‘I’ll never sell out my rich daddy and his even richer friends’? Nothing?”

“What’s the point in fighting you when I agree with your stance… Gaon.”

This time it’s him who stops breathing for a moment, thrown off by the fact that you know who he is.

“How the hell…” he trails off, taking a few seconds to get his bearings together before you feel him loosening up your blindfold until it falls from your eyes, “You don’t even know me. How did you figure out who I am from my voice alone?”

“You and your friends have been protesting outside of every single place I frequent for years,” you reply, still not looking at him even though he’s very much right in front of you and staring daggers into you, “How could I not know who you are when you and that damn megaphone have harassed me for god knows how long.”

He stands up straight again, muttering curses under his breath as he continues to pace the floor.

“I- fuck!” Gaon stops to look at you again, the disbelief in his eyes almost laughable if it wasn’t for the fact that he still has you in a random, abandoned office building tied up to a chair.

“Ah… you’ve never done this before, have you?” you ask, testing out the waters to see what you can get away with. Was that a stupid thing to do in your situation? Absolutely. But the worst thing you think he’s capable of at the moment is putting the gag on you again so he can have silence to think.

“Of course I have,” he says, his eyes finally darting away from you.

It’s clear that he’s lying through his teeth. He can’t even make eye contact with you now, and he’s clearly sweating a bit, the sheen getting caught under the nearby lamplight. On top of that, he can’t stay still to save his life. You almost start to wonder how he even pulled this off when your head starts to pound.

“Would it be too much to ask for an Advil?” you ask, “Maybe even a Tylenol? My head is killing me. A bottle of water would be nice, too.”

“You spoiled-“ Gaon stops talking, seemingly deciding to go ahead and give you what you asked for, “I’m only doing this because my… partner… hit you over the head when he wasn’t supposed to. I’ll be right back.”

With that, he leaves the room you two are currently in to go get the medicine and water you asked for. Now, it’s time to start thinking of how the hell you’re going to get out of here.

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