Mirae slammed onto the floor, her basket tumbling beside her with a muffled thud. She pressed her cheek against the cold tile, willing her breath to still. Don't make a sound.
"Where is NCT? We know they were here."
NCT? What the hell was NCT? This felt… wrong. Utterly, terrifyingly wrong.
She squeezed her eyes shut, inching backwards, crawling between stacks of cereal boxes and canned goods. Peeking through a gap in the shelving, she saw them. Eight men, swallowed by shadows, all clad in black. And the guns. Each one held a gun. Her breath hitched.
"I-I don't know anything about NCT. I-I'm just the store clerk."
"Either you tell us who's working with NCT, or we'll kill you right here."
The man's voice was gravel, laced with menace. A silent scream clawed its way up Mirae's throat. She backed away, scrambling for distance, her fingers scraping against the rough wood of the shelving.
Ten feet. She’d reached ten feet when strong hands clamped around her shoulders, yanking her upright. A strangled squeal ripped from her lips.
"Hey boss!" The man hauling her out into the open, into the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights. "Found her lurking in the aisles."
"Excellent." A smirk twisted the man’s lips. She felt the cold steel of a gun pressed against her forehead.
"Please! Please let me go, I have no idea what's going on, I just came here to get some things!" She whimpered, her voice trembling. Her eyes locked on his, pleading.
"We can't have any witnesses, sweetheart."
"I won't say anything. I swear. I don't even know your names and I’ll keep my mouth shut. Promise."
He shook his head, the gun digging harder into her skin. The man turned back to the clerk, resuming his interrogation.
She felt a cold dread creep into her veins. It felt like she was watching her own death play out in front of her eyes.
"It's a pity, you know, you're a cute one." The man leaned close, his breath ghosting across her ear. Her body vibrated with terror. Every nerve ending screamed. She squeezed her eyes shut, a silent prayer forming on her lips.
"Looking for us?" A voice cut through the tension. The front door creaked open. She felt the boss’s grip tighten on her neck.
"Well well well, you decided to show up."
"It's us you want, these innocents have no part in this. Let them go." She recognized the voice vaguely, a phantom echo in the chaos. But she was too paralyzed to think straight. Her eyes were still screwed shut, her body shaking with terror.
"That might be how your gang works, but for us, no one gets spared." The boss growled, his voice low and lethal.
Then came the gunshot. A deafening crack that ripped through the silence. She screamed, a raw, animalistic sound. More shots erupted, a cacophony of violence. The grip on her shoulders loosened. The gun clattered to the floor.
She collapsed, curling into a fetal position, her hands clamped over her ears. Gunshots continued, followed by sickening thuds. Bodies hitting the ground.
Her ears rang, a high-pitched whine that drowned out everything else. She didn’t dare move, didn't dare breathe.
A hand on her back. She screamed, flinching violently.
"Hey, it's ok. They're gone, you're safe. You can stand up now." A soft voice, gentle as a whisper. The hand was removed.
Slowly, she stood, her legs trembling. The stench of gunpowder and blood filled her nostrils. She opened her eyes, her vision blurred with tears. Black silhouettes surrounded by crimson pools.
She blinked, rubbing her eyes, trying to focus. She saw the clerk huddled in a corner, trembling. Seven men, still standing, all clad in black.
They were panting, their faces streaked with dirt and blood. She saw cuts and bruises on their arms. Slowly, her gaze lifted to their faces. Her heart stopped.
"Jaemin?"
She stared in disbelief. Jaemin, his face smeared with blood, a gun clutched in his hand. He met her eyes for a fleeting moment before turning away.
She scanned the room, recognizing each face. Jeno, Renjun, Haechan, Chenle… and Jisung. Plus one she didn’t know, a little older than the rest.
"Jeno... Renjun... Haechan... Chenle... and even you, Jisung? What is going on? What even is this?"
"Mirae we-"
Jeno stepped forward, extending his hands. She flinched back, her eyes fixed on the blood dripping from his palms. He stopped, his eyes wide with concern, quickly hiding his hands behind his back.
"We can explain!"
"You're just like them!" She gestured to the bodies. "You're… you're… murderers! You killed them!" The tears flowed freely now, streaming down her face.
"And you." She turned to Jaemin, her voice raw with betrayal. "I was with you less than an hour ago and you left to… to do this?"
Her eyes flickered wildly, taking in the scene. The guns, the bodies, the faces of her friends.
"All of you… you ditched me to come out and kill people?!"
"Mirae, it's not like that-"
"Park Jisung, don't even try to justify this right now." She couldn't believe it. "You're a first year! And all of you… you let him join you?"
They lowered their heads, shame washing over their faces. The unfamiliar one, the oldest, stared at her with cold, assessing eyes. She didn’t even notice him.
"I don't know who you are, but I want nothing to do with this." She ran towards the exit, dodging the bodies, ignoring the metallic tang of blood.
"Mimi, wait-"
"Don't ever call me that again!"
She shook off Jaemin's grasp and bolted, sprinting towards her apartment, tears blurring her vision.
She slammed the door shut, locking it tight. She threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow. She sobbed, the images replaying endlessly.
They killed them. All those men… they're dead because of my friends. And they didn’t even seem to feel bad about it.
Her phone buzzed with a frenzy of texts and calls from the six boys. She grabbed it, silencing it, and hurled it into the corner.
She heard her brother stumble home, his footsteps echoing through the apartment. He pounded on the door, but she didn’t respond, lost in her grief.
She fell asleep, clutching her pillow, the tears still flowing. The memory of gunfire and blood, and the faces of her friends, burned into her mind.