The Monster Awakening

(Seongho's POV)

The stale air hung heavy, thick with the scent of dust and despair. Sunlight, a cruel mockery of freedom, sliced through a crack in the boarded-up window. Another day bled into another, each a monotonous echo of the last. My thoughts, like relentless waves, crashed against the shores of my loneliness, each a painful reminder of my Junseong. His cute smiles, the warmth of his hand in mine, the comforting weight of his hand on my shoulder—all were vivid, agonizing memories. I pictured his worried face, the furrow in his brow as he frantically searched for me. I should be with him, I thought, the words a bitter taste in my mouth. I should be home.

A rough scrape at the door broke through my reverie. The door creaked open, revealing one of Jaehyun's men, a hulking figure with a face as hard as granite. He carried a tray with a bowl of something that vaguely resembled food. My stomach churned, not from hunger, but from revulsion. I wouldn't touch anything they gave me. Not after what they'd done.

He placed the tray on the floor, a gesture devoid of any compassion. "Eat cocksucker," he grunted, his voice rough as sandpaper.

"I won't touch it," I spat, my voice weak but defiant.

The man's eyes narrowed. "You're making a mistake, you slut."

"Is that a threat?" I challenged, my voice trembling slightly, but my eyes unwavering.

"It's a promise," he snarled, his face contorting with rage. He grabbed the bowl, flinging it against the wall. "You asked for it."

His fists were a blur. Pain exploded across my face, my ribs, my stomach. I cried out, a choked sob muffled by the sudden impact.

"You think you can defy Jaehyun?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt as he hauled me to my feet. "He won't be so merciful."

He shoved a metal pipe into my mouth, the cold, hard metal a brutal contrast to the burning pain in my body. "Shut up or I'll make you choke you on my Cock!" he roared, his voice echoing off the walls. I sobbed, helpless, tears streaming down my face. The blows continued, relentless, each one a hammer blow to my spirit.

Even through the pain and the gag, a defiant scream tore through me as he left. "If Junseong finds you," I roared, my voice raw with fury, "he'll kill you all! He'll make Jaehyun pay! He'll make sure he dies a painful death!"

The goon's heavy footsteps echoed as he left the room, the door slamming shut behind him. Silence descended, broken only by the rhythmic drip of a leaky pipe and the ragged rasp of my own breathing. My body throbbed with pain, every muscle screaming in protest. The metal pipe, still clenched in my jaw, felt like a searing brand. I tried to spit it out, but my jaw was locked in a painful, involuntary clench.

"Junseong..." I whispered, the word a prayer, a plea, a desperate echo of hope. I pictured his face, his worried eyes, the strength in his hands. He would find me. He would make them pay.

The thought of Junseong fueled a flicker of defiance, a spark of resistance in the ashes of my battered spirit. I wouldn't let them break me. I wouldn't let them crush my hope. I would survive. I would endure. For Junseong. For my family. For myself.

The darkness that had threatened to engulf me receded, replaced by a steely resolve. I would not be a victim. I would fight back.

(Junseong's POV)

The acrid bite of smoke filled my lungs. Three days. Three days since Seongho vanished. The hotel room felt like a tomb. My phone buzzed and it was my parents.

"Junseong-ah, darling, you must come home," my mother pleaded, her voice breaking. "Seongho's family is here, staying at our house. They won't leave until you say he's safe."

"And what if he's not safe, Eomma?" I asked, my voice low and dangerous. "What if something happened to him?"

My father's voice, usually calm and steady, was edged with fear. "The detectives are working hard here too. They'll find him, Junseong. But you need to be here. You need to be strong."

"Strong?" I scoffed, the smoke stinging my eyes. "I'm already at my breaking point, Appa. I'll be strong when I have Seongho back in my arms, safe and sound. Until then, I'm hunting Jaehyun. And I'm not coming home until I find him."

"Junseong ," my mother's voice was laced with desperation. "Seongho is so sensitive, so delicate… like a porcelain doll,my poor baby!. What if they've hurt him?"

My anger flared. "If I find out they've touched him, I'll make them regret it. I'll make sure Jaehyun and Jiwoon die a slow, agonizing death." I hung up, the rage burning hotter than ever. The hunt was on, and it wouldn't end until Seongho was safe.

The phone call with my parents left me simmering with a potent cocktail of rage and desperation. I paced the hotel room, the smoke from my cigarette swirling around me like a phantom. My mind raced, replaying the images of Seongho, his fragile beauty, his gentle nature, now trapped in the hands of those monsters.

I grabbed my phone, the cold metal a stark contrast to the fire burning within me. I dialed the number of the detective agency, the ones I'd hired to find Seongho. The phone rang, each ring a hammer blow to my already frayed nerves.

"Mr Lee," the detective's voice was calm, professional. "We've been making progress. We have a lead. We're closing in."

My heart leapt with a flicker of hope. "Where is he?" I demanded, my voice hoarse with urgency. "Tell me now!"

"We need more time, Mr Lee. We need to be careful. We don't want to jeopardize the operation."

"Operation?" I scoffed. "This isn't a game, detective. This is my husband. A precious life. Tell me where he is!"

"We're working on it," the detective said, his voice firm. "We'll get him back. I promise."

I hung up, the promise ringing in my ears, a fragile thread of hope in the darkness. I wouldn't rest until I found Seongho. I wouldn't stop until I brought him home. And when I did, Jaehyun would pay. He would pay dearly.

No one's point of view

Junseong sat on the plush, leather sofa, his long legs stretched out, a half-empty glass of scotch resting on the coffee table beside him. The smoke from his cigarette curled lazily towards the high, ornate ceiling, a testament to his simmering rage.

The knock on the door was sharp, impatient. Junseong didn't bother to rise, his eyes narrowed as he watched the door open, revealing Taesung, his face etched with worry.

"Junseong," Taesung said, his voice hesitant. "We need to talk."

Junseong took a long drag of his cigarette, the embers glowing like angry eyes in the semi-darkness. "About what, Taesung?" His voice was low, a rumbling growl that sent a shiver down Taesung's spine.

"The investigation," Taesung said, his gaze darting nervously around the opulent room. "We've been working tirelessly, but we're hitting dead ends. Jaehyun's covered his tracks well. We've got nothing."

Junseong let out a humorless chuckle, the sound echoing in the silence. "Nothing?" He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Taesung, his gaze piercing. "You're telling me, after all this time, after all the resources we've poured into this, we're back to square one?"

Taesung swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "We're doing everything we can, Junseong. We're following every lead, every possibility."

"Then why haven't you found him?" Junseong's voice was a cold, sharp blade. "Why haven't you found Seongho?"

Taesung's shoulders slumped. "We're trying, Junseong. But Jaehyun is a master at this. He's always been one step ahead."

Junseong stood up, his movements fluid, almost predatory. He strode towards the window, his back to Taesung, his silhouette a dark, imposing figure against the cityscape. "He's not a master, Taesung," he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "He's just lucky. He's lucky I haven't found him yet."

Taesung felt a chill run down his spine. He knew Junseong's capacity for violence, the dark side of his nature that usually remained hidden beneath a veneer of calm. But there was something different about Junseong now. Something cold, something ruthless, something terrifyingly focused. This wasn't the Junseong he knew. This was a man possessed by a burning rage, a man who would stop at nothing to find a husband he claimed he didn't love.

"Junseong," Taesung said, his voice barely a whisper. "We'll find him. We'll find Seongho."

Junseong turned, his eyes blazing with a chilling intensity. "You better," he said, his voice a deadly whisper. "Because if you don't, you'll be the next one to disappear."

Taesung felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He knew Junseong meant it. He knew that Junseong, in his grief and rage, was capable of anything because he has seen it firsthand. He knew that Jaehyun had unleashed a monster.