Story Jungkook ^^^

*Intense Scene, read at your own risk.*

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Something about the building of this academy welcomes the fresh meat with this odd lonesomeness aura just by staring at it alone. If it wasn't for the black gates around the perimeter and a few security guards in their usual posts, this would look like any regular boarding school; Nothing like how anyone would except upon hearing of this academy.

There's two buildings attached together by glass walkway at the center, where one could see constant people walking back and forth.  Looks do deceive. This building looks much more modern than most universities out there, but less unapproachable. One building is specifically used for the dorms; every student here are assigned with a room, no roommate in that occasion. In that room they'll have everything they need; a bathroom, bed, a desk made of sturdy styrofoam and a small opening as a closet for their uniform.

For the newbies, the uniform is a button up black t-shirt with black slacks.

No shoes on except for the teachers.

So that's exactly what Jimin is wearing, letting the first few buttons off since he doesn't like the strangling sensation of being chocked. His room, like the others, is entirely covered in a soft  café cushion with a rug on the floor from all four walls, preventing someone from hurting themselves. So he has no idea how he looks right now, but he prefers thinking he looks decent.

Nothing like the first day of classes to get the mind working up.

A hard knock hits his door, snapping his head to see his assigned security guard opening the metal door. Officer Lee Taemin is his name, who wears a soft complexion on his handsome face and carries a tender voice of a muse, the type that Jimin would love to hear scream as he rips his heart out. He's the same height as Jimin, but one could tell the security guard is tough and will knock anyone out with one punch from his rough hand if someone tempts him.

And Jimin seems to like that, a lot.

"How do I look?" Jimin asks smugly, twirling around to show his outfit, "These pants fit my ass a little too fitting though, don't you think?"

Taemin didn't even blink an eye over him, remaining with his expressionless look and hands to his back, "Shirt tucked in Mr. Park."

Jimin looks down, seeing how his shirt is over his pants and he smirks up at the officer, "Don't get tempted to all of this, I'm pretty eye catching."

If it wasn't for his job to remain absolute stone cold, Taemin would've rolled his eyes to the ginger's commentary, but either way Jimin follows orders and stuffs his shirt in his pants, outlining his small waist and his round butt a bit more. When he looks back up, he moves his sleeves, revealing his multiple scars, "I'm rolling these up, I don't like restraints on my wrists."

Taemin exhales heavily, almost in dread, and turns around, "Hurry up, you have class to attend."

Jimin rolls his sleeves to his elbows and walks out of his room, closing the door behind him as he follows his officer. The hall he's in holds a hand full of people with black uniforms with their security guards. Jimin's suddenly remembers being separated from his ravenette the first day there were brought here, guiding them far away from each other.

Hopefully he will be in at least in a class together, then maybe Jimin wouldn't be tempted on setting this whole school on fire.

Jimin continues to walk down the hallway behind his officer, keeping his eyes ahead from a few stairs of the walking students who are being guided by their own guard, looking much more miserable then Jimin possibly could. He tried not to make eye contact with those fucking psychopaths, but it was hard not fighting back his stare when he saw a girl slowly trailing behind her officer walking the opposite direction. Something about the way her body slouches, shoulders dropped and head faced down, with hair completely drenched and her pale complexions is what intrigued Jimin, mostly in utter fascination.

She...... She looks so..... Horrified?

Such a beautiful look on her.

Almost as if she's dead... But still walking. Wherever she came from, the sucked the life out of her, completely.

Jimin let's that anticipating emotion fuel his body as the girl walks past him and he focuses back on his officer, a broad smile on his lips. Wow so do they torture here? Oh he's so excited for this!

For the meantime as he makes his way to his class, he studies his surroundings; The walls are all wooden, fresh rosemary, with dangling ceiling lamps to give off a vintage vibe to this area. The marble is freshly clean and cold against Jimin's feet, but he didn't have it in him to complain.

At least socks would've been helpful if he's going to be alittle school boy.

He has to be on his best behavior, so his lips must be sealed.

Soon enough they were walking down the long walkway, revealing more students walking back and forth from between classes. What Jimin found quite odd in this process were how some students wore red uniforms and were walking around without a security guard. It's not like he cares but that's pretty..... Odd.

Why aren't they wearing black?

Why are some wearing blue as well?

Does these colors have some type of hidden meaning or something? Well obviously, some of these people look like they're staying at a fancy hotel by how happy they look.

Those must be the ones who have been 'cured' so to say, but Jimin can't jump to that conclusion just yet.

After a few more minutes of walking through the hallways, everything seemed pretty normal. Like a normal school in general, except for the lockers. There's no lockers, obviously, but there are teachers walking around with folders in their hands and dressed up all professionally than everyone else.

Jimin feels like he's reliving his childhood all over again.

That's until they stopped in front of a wooden door and Taemin turns to look at Jimin, "This will be your assigned classroom. You will also be attending regularly therapy sessions in between but we'll come right back here, everyday, from seven a.m until 2 p.m. Any questions?"

Jimin stares at the open door, seeing a few students inside before turning to look back at Taemin, "Am I going to eat something or starve to death?"

"Mr. Kim will provide food, only those who earned it will be able to have access to the cafeteria."

Talk about privileged...

Jimin furrows his eyebrows, "Who earned it?"

Taemin didn't say anything more when the bell suddenly rang, so he grimaces at him, "Behave. I'll be back to get you, don't make them call me earlier to have to control you..... Even though I think that won't be an issue for Mr. Kim."

Mr. Kim?

Is that his teacher??

Now with a slight heavy weight that fell in Jimin's chest to Taemin's statement, he goes into the classroom. The students that are here are just talking amongst themselves or just sit silently with eyes focused ahead with an intense dazed look in their eyes. For a moment this all felt just too normal, too casual for Jimin's own liking with the setting he's in. No one bothered to blant an eye in Jimin's direction as he roamed his eye to the desks, finding the perfect one to sit on.

Well about being unnoticed.... That's not entirely true.

"Fire cracker!"

Jimin turns his head to the sudden voice and sees a familiar ravenette rushing towards him, a giddily smile on his lips with eyes practically vibrating in utter giddiness, almost as if he sniffed a whole long roll of cocaine before class.

Oh the withdrawls will definitely start kicking in for him soon without his precious drugs.

"Ravenette," Jimin manages to say quietly, moving an eye over to the boy, who stands in front of him and instantly grabs his hand, practically dragging him through the row of plastic desks. Jimin stumbles behind him, trying to keep up with his pace, until they finally arrive to a group of boys in the back.

Oh meeting new people, of course the ravenette would be a social butterfly.

If they're not going to die, Jimin's not interested.

"Guys this is my friend I told you about! The one who likes fire!" Jungkook beams enthusiastically, instantly latching his arms around Jimin's shoulders in a sided hug. Jimin felt a little nerve being tugged to the sudden affection. He doesn't like nor is use to physical contact in that sense, so that's why he slightly steps away from Jungkook's arms.

It's familiar, and he doesn't like it.

"You're a newbie right?" The man with the dimpled smile says with the kinder smile, "I'm Kim Namjoon."

Jimin wasn't expecting the soft voice or pleasant personality from the tall male. The brunette hair hovering over his forehead just gives him a more innocent look than Jungkook's innocent aura. The whole dressed attire he wears is fitted, hugging his buffed chest all too well.

Body of a man but attitude of sweet candy, those are the dangerous ones.

"You seem way too sane to be here," Jimin mutters, making Namjoon's smile slightly widen even more, almost inviting.

The type of smile a snake would wear before it attacks.

The man behind Namjoon, sitting on the desk barks a dry laugh, all eyes from the group falling towards him. The man's face completely twists to his smile. His fingers are twitching, rubbing his hands together in a constant nervous pattern with eyes glittering in some type of amusement that Jimin doesn't understand the message to it.

Mocking him? Perhaps, or maybe he's just insane.

"Him? Sane?" The man laughs again, earning a warning glare from the raven haired male beside him, "Call a man that skinned a whole family alive and left them burning in a house sane? Funny, very funny!"

Jimin snaps his eyes to Namjoon, lips slightly gapped in shock.

Guess he found his favorite human being in this institution.

"Shut it Yoongi," The man that glared at Yoongi growls, moving his lethal eyes to Jimin, "Can't judge a book by its cover doll face, we aren't here for volunteer work."

Jungkook pouts to man and crosses his arms over his chest, "Hoseok, don't be a meanie to firecracker," And Jungkook's eyes suddenly grew chaotically dark, his lips twitching in a smile, "Before I transform you into my own personal porcelain doll-"

"Good morning class!"

It all happened so fast when everyone in the classroom robotically sits down on their seats, hands tangled together on the desk, straight postures and facing ahead in their undivided attention; zero emotions tracing any shade or highlight on their faces. The lightweight environment instantly shifted into a much more vigorous submission to the authority of the voice that echoed the classroom, a source that demands attention to be given.

Oh that was definitely achieved.

Much to the six males in the room, who were still standing, unsure on what to assume of this behavior, let alone from person who casted their trance to the sea of psychopaths.

The classroom door suddenly shuts abruptly, jolting Jimin in his place, followed by slow footsteps moving across the classroom. Jimin's focus falls to the tall male who entered the room. The man even dressed in those pathetic attempt to impress, he did that all alone with his presence. Dark maroon slacks hugs his legs with a button up black shirt with the first two buttons unclipped. His walk alone conquered this very room without even trying with the confidence dripping his squared shoulders and time pace from the door to his desk.

This is his way of making a statement; he will do as he pleases and everyone is obligated to shut up and listen to whatever he demands.

There's no room for arguments, let alone to fall for those urgencies to go off on a killing spree like Jimin has been itching for since he got here.

Jimin's lips parted and his heart clenched hard the second the man stood in front of his desk, moving his face up from his focus on the folder at the palm of his hand. Jimin nearly forgot how to breath properly that same second. The man's face is simply a pleasing curse. It's the type of face you would beat your meat to with those lewd fantasies striking every cell in your body, only leaving you to moan his name out in hopes he'll appear. A face that had no room for imperfection since every flaw just appeared so perfectly in place. Even though his scarlet red hair may not be natural, it made his natural golden skin outstand more as if the sun fell in love with him, kissed and pampered to a glowing melanin beauty.

Then came his eyes....

Those eyes meant for intimidation on the weak, prying for fear with the cold glaze of darkness cascading like a cloud on those hooded orbs.

Unlike his beautiful skin, his eyes has never seen the light of day; The light of joy, love or all those sappy good things that makes one seem a little more human.

Maybe he's not even human; perhaps close to the grim reaper as he chooses the souls to snatch from hope and break apart from bone and muscle.

And Jimin just entered his death row.

The teacher suddenly fixes those hooded eyes to the six males still standing in the back of the room. It's almost as if a switch clicked his mind from these students not following directions, his eyes darkens and he crosses his arms over his chest.

"Ah, you must be the new students," His voice connects to the same tone of authority when he first made his presence known; husky and low, sending shivers down anyone's spine if the attention is directly sole to them. He then looks over the folder on his large veiny hands, unfazed eyes scanning over it with complete boredom before looking back up to them, grimacing deeply, "Well, as you can see, everyone is seated down. Whenever I come in, you must all be seated with eyes straight ahead to the board. Do I make myself clear?"

The six males couldn't even manage to utter a word, completely in a trance by their teacher's aura. Well.... No one except for that familiar bubbily male with the fidgeting hands, who clearly didn't have a filter in his tongue.

"What are we, kids? We are practically the same age as you!" Yoongi drawls with a hiccupping giggle, shaking his head dismissively, "We don't have to listen to you, or anyone in general."

The tension was already unbearable as it is, now it became almost suffocating; not giving any space to exhale a breath. The students sitting down instantly tensed up in their seats, almost simultaneously, making Jimin himself also hold his tongue as he observes the sudden switch. In most cases he would speak up as well since he definitely does not like to be govern by anyone, but he always picks his food before eating.

He has to study before making a move.

Mr. Kim snaps his calm eyes to the giggling male, standing up straight  with arms crossed, "Is that so," He drawls back, eyes focusing to the students, a sudden sparkle behind his eyes, "Class, we are going to review over a lesson today. Let's have our new student, Min Yoongi, as a demonstration. Mr. Min, please approach the class."

"No."

Hoseok glares from beside him, slapping a hand against his head, "Listen to Mr. Kim-"

"Jung Hoseok, you cannot harm another student in this facility. Approach the front of the class as well."

Now he fucked himself over for looking after his friend, making the six boys realize that in this building there's no friendship to be counted, no saving anyone's ass. It's every man for themselves, or they'll just drag you down to hell with them.

So in annoyance to this, Hoseok subtly rolls his eyes and stands up, dragging the giggling man up with him and approach the front of the class. Mr. Kim watches them intently as they did this whole process, instructing them to face the classroom with hands to their backs.

The rest of the four ended up sitting down on the open desks around them, eyes peering to grasp what the hell is about to happen.

"Alright, now class, what are the rules about disobedience in my class?"

"You shall not disobey the teacher," Jimin jumps in startle when everyone in the room spoke in usion, almost robotically with a monotone hint to it. The voices of males and females that once has perceived as alive are now ghostly cold, not even sounding human anymore. Almost like a record player; record and repeat.

That's all they were.

Recording and repeating.

This made things so much more intriguing for Jimin for sure.

"Good," The teacher states and turns to the two students, "Now I'm give you one more chance since it's your first day. Bow to your knees and ask for forgiveness."

Namjoon's blood pulses dropped to almost a nonexistent beat, his complexion instantly paling up while the other quiet male from beside him, Seokjin, tenses up in unease.

The order was not even for the sympathy of giving them mercy or the poor excuse of a second chance, no, everyone knows that much. He's ordering them to drop down their pride and dignity all to him, to become ultimately submitted to him. The second they fall for that, their will be nothing left. Almost like putting a collar to a dog, and their master will always have complete control over them, even if they bark back.

The master will always win.

Jimin's heart began to accelerate to this, moving his eyes to look at Jungkook to see if he shared the same reality he did.

What a mistake he did for sure.

"Mr. Park, you're not paying attention," Mr. Kim slithers tauntingly, his tone almost poisoning as if ready to fight back with his tongue if Jimin let alone breathes an argument like Yoongi did, "Approach the class as well."

Jimin had to bite down his tongue from stating a snarky remark, reminding himself that if he wanted to get out of here fast enough the only way that will ever happen is if he listens and be a good little toy.

Good, he has to be good.

So with a small smile he rises to his feet, slowly moving past the desk with the students not even blinking an eye to his direction. Jimin didn't let the intensity waver his pride as he stands beside Hoseok, head high and hands to his back as well.

Anyone who looked at the ginger haired male would instantly assume he's an innocent little who is accused wrongly for a silly mistake; soft facial complexion with eyes glimmering in light, almost as if he's ready to present himself to the class like the perfect teacher's pet.

Mr. Kim slowly walks towards him, standing right in front of his face with hands digging his pockets. Jimin plastered his sweet smile but upon looking up to the hooded seething glare from the teacher, it instantly dropped quickly.

Up close those eyes look much more horrifying than any dead body he has tortured in his life, for once making Jimin lose his composure to how it feels as if the man is yanking the soul out of his body.

If circumstances were different, Jimin would've been dead on the spot by now without a doubt.

"Well don't you look charming," Mr. Kim mocks humorlessly, a cold smile on his lips and he steps back, giving a one eye over Jimin's outfit, "You're wearing your shirt wrong. Sleeves down, all the way, and buttons all the way up."

Jimin's teeth almost immediately grinded together upon the request, letting his eyes avert to the ground, "I don't like tight pressures on my body sir."

There's no lie to that. It feels as if Jimin is experiencing death at first hand if he feels anything pressure his skin, almost like a phobia but worse.

He gets a physical reaction because of his mental break down.

Mr. Kim didn't say anything, only lets his eyes study the multiple carved canvas of scars on Jimin's skin with names or phrases, almost like tattoos, and to Jimin's surprise, he smiles. A twisted smile that looks almost as sweet as candy, even tender like wine. Mixing together in a bittersweet taste all together to form that precious smile.

A smile Jimin didn't trust at all.

"I'm sorry, I must've heard improperly," Mr. Kim chuckles and leans towards his face, forcing Jimin to drown into those murderous chocolate brown eyes, "I said..... Put your uniform properly, Park Jimin."

By this point Jimin didn't move, let alone was able to breath without it escaping into heavy exhales as the panic of his past fights against his cage of insanity. Mr. Kim could instantly study the storm of darkness sparkling Jimin's eyes, a certain glint of madness only desperate to escape and reveal the true psychotic colors that's in the ginger's mind.

Mr. Kim frowns.

Well, holding back won't do in order to have progress now will it?

After a while that Jimin didn't move, Mr. Kim hums disappointedly and leans back, giving the man enough space to breath properly. He turns to the class, "Guess we have more than one person disobeying the professor today, such a shame," He sighs lowly and turns to the three students, who are slightly squirming underneath the man's intense eyes.

They disappointed him, that's definitely not a good sign.

Mr. Kim's eyes fell to Yoongi, "Mr. Min, remove your shirt and kneel to the ground."

Yoongi's wide eyes glares up at him, snarling his lips, "Absolutely not-"

"Class, count the many times he says no," Mr. Kim announces, turning back to Yoongi, "The more you deny my request, the higher the count rises up, worse it'll get for you."

"I don't give a fuck-"

"Two."

"I'm not kneeling down-"

"Three."

"No!"

"Four."

"Stop counting-"

"Five."

Hoseok turns to his friend, eyes begging Yoongi now, "Just do what he says!"

"No!"

Mr. Kim slowly shakes his head in frustration, "It's only going to be worse for you."

This only infuriated Yoongi and he stands up straight, "Listen you fucker! You are not my parent, let alone anything of me to be ordering me to do shit-"

A loud slap echoes the room.

Jimin's breath hitches, his body coming completely still to the sound that still bounces off the walls  of his mind. Yoongi's face is to the side, a hand clutching over his skin with tears prickling his eyes, shocked himself as well for what the other male just did to him. Mr. Kim glowers over him, rubbing his palm from the hard smack he gave the small man before grabbing the collar of his shirt and pushing him aggressively to the desk.

It all happened so fast when Mr. Kim was yanking Yoongi's shirt off, not caring if the buttons came off unhinged or plopped off, as long as the pale man was topless. Yoongi screams and fights back in protest but Mr. Kim only punches him across the face once with a hard strike, instantly sending him quiet before pushing him to his knees on the floor.

And then he places Yoongi's hands on the desk with back towards the class.

The teacher glances at Hoseok, "Mr. Jung, what is 10 multiplied by five?"

Hoseok gulps thickly, his body shaking to what he just saw happening before his eyes, "50 sir."

"Class, what is the punishment for disobedience?"

"You get 10 whips on the back, but if you disobey more than once than it multiplies by that number each time.

Jungkook's jaw dropped from the back of the classroom, unable to grasp what is about to happen to the small male leaning over the desk.

50 whips on the back.

50 on his bare skin, in front of everyone; facing utter humiliation and submission, by force.

Mr. Kim moves behind his big desk in front of the class, rummaging through his drawers before suddenly smiling broadly, almost a sadistic smile that a demon would start to quiver in fear. Right between his large hands rests a long, black stick; flexible and clearly of good material meant to cause pain. The object starts of thick from the handle but then moves thinner and thinner to the other point, looking almost sharp from the angle that the three other males in the back room remained.

Jimin visibly shivers to the long objects and let's his eyes widen when Mr. Kim gives it to Hoseok, almost invitingly, "Since you just love to hit people, go crazy," He gleams, "Fifty strikes."

Hoseok glances between the two, clearly hesitating about grabbing the object but Mr. Kim forcefully makes him take it and stand behind Yoongi's markless skin, his eyes now sparkling in dark humor, "What's the matter? I thought you just loved physical violence?"

Then Mr. Kim's eyes moves to Jimin, "Since you just love not paying attention, you're going to be count."

Well, that's easy. Jimin can pay very close attention to this alright, especially since it might feed some of his won desire for blood and pain. However, it seems as if Hoseok was having a little too much time of a problem being able to accomplish this own task. He can barely hold the whip properly with his hand shaking uncontrollably, tears gleaming behind his eyes.

However after a deep breath, understanding the circumstances if he disobeys his teacher, he slams the whip against Yoongi's back.

A shuttering cry escapes Yoongi's lips, his hand gripping the desk with head pressed against his, making Hoseok squeeze his eyes shut.

He can't even look at him.

Jimin calmly stares at the scene, blink indifferently, "One."

And so that's how those counts continued on. Ever slap of the whip against Yoongi's skin only felt like a bit of Jimin's sanity being chipped off, making him grow more and more giddily as he sees the blood being drawn on the ravenette's pale skin; sliding down his back in massive small river streams of perfect scarlet. His screams stopped by the time Jimin reaches thirty, only biting down his bottom lip painfully to hold back his sobs from the pain.

Hoseok, on the other hand, has completely fallen into a trance he tried to control. His devilish grin is wide, eyes glowing in utter awe with hiccuping giggles, his own sanity being wiped off completely. Every hit he landed became hard slams, almost as if determined to engrave the whip to Yoongi's skin.

He became a completely different person.

Those giggles from the mad man made Jimin start to bounce on his feet with clenching hands in anticipation. Oh how he wanted nothing more than be the one to beat Yoongi with the whip himself, all the way until he's a scarred body on the floor with markings of the weapon, not stopping until every layer of his skin is stained with the color of his own blood.

Before burning it before Jimin's eyes.

The thought alone perked a laugh from Jimin's lips as he reached forty-five, growing so close to just grabbing the weapon to finish it off, but his throat instantly clenches up before he even lets the thought process properly. Before he was even able to finish his count, a rough hand suddenly grips his throat and slams him against the teacher's desk aggressively back, cutting off his airways completely.

Mr. Kim stands over him, an expecting glare in his eyes, "I didn't tell you to stop counting."

Jimin's whole giddiness disappeared as he feels his hands being restrained by Mr. Kim's single large hand and his neck being clenched by his other palm, keeping him in place on the desk in complete restraint. The feeling of being clogged suffocating instantly had Jimin shaking, prying to be freed but he was not freed.

He was trapped.

Jimin suddenly starts to panic.

Three strikes hits against Yoongi's back that Jimin didn't count, and he falls into this hysterical mental break down.

"Every time you fail to count, the longer I'll be holding onto you," Mr. Kim sings tauntingly, eyes narrowed as he leans to his face, "I don't hear you counting! FINISH!"

Jimin gasps for air desperately, his vision clouding in dark spots by the talons squeezing his scarred skin. A bumbling frantic anxiety only rised up from somewhere deep inside Jimin's mind, frantically desperate to escape those strong hands.

C-Can't breathe!

"I SAID FUCKING COUNT-"

"45," Jimin chokes, hyperventilating with his body shaking against the desk, "46."

He can't finish.

Too much.

Too much.

"I can't hear you!"

"47," The purple faced male wheezes, letting those brutal flashbacks of his past stab every single pain to his scars, almost as if they're being sliced open all over again.

"48."

By now Jimin's body feels as if it's being scrunched up, twisting and gripping every nerve and organ to the ultimate pain of the suffocation. The fears and trauma he went through that was all pushed back now came like a feverish nightmare catching up to him, and for once in his life he feels weak.

He's afraid.

"49," He mumbles, eyes shuttering with body growing almost limp, "50."

And suddenly the hands are gone.

All oxygen rushes back to Jimin's wind pipes, forcing him to desperately cough in the air that he was suppressed from. Mr. Kim watches him with a heavy scowl on his lips, near close to as if he's looking at a pathetic animal than a human before turning to Yoongi, who's shaking on the ground with body curled up, muttering words that made no sense under his breath. Hoseok is another man now, heaving over the weak body on the ground like a desperate animal just ready to attack their prey all over again, with a hint of more madness behind his smile.

Guess everyone has their own reason to be here.

Mr. Kim claps his hands together, eyes now angry, "This is not a fucking preschool, let alone jail like many of you privileged bastards are so use to. This is my classroom and trust me you will only wish you were sentenced to death if you disobey me," He announces, venom dripping with every word, "You never say no to Mr. Kim. UNDERSTOOD!"

Through Jimin's blurred vision and heavy wheezes, he sees the red haired teacher transform into the devil himself before his dark spotted eyes. That horrid reality of Jimin's life slams down to his insane mind like fucking bricks.

Jimin just entered his own personal hell, and his devil does not buy his bullshit.

Let alone is he sweet.

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A/N:

First chapter of Yes, Mr. Kim before the official release of this book. I've seen many of you have been anticipating this book for a while, so I gifted you all with this small update!!

So this is only the beginning, it's only going to get so much more intense from here on out. So please read at your own risk. The prologue will be the only warning that will be given for this book, so if it arrives to a scene you don't like, feel free to skip it please. 

I hope you enjoy this book!!

I PURPLE YOU! <33