Wretches & Kings

Lights and figures danced before Hyun Ae's vision. Muffled voices of shadows filled her ears, uninterpretable. The only thing that made sense is that she was dry and warm and comfortable. Comfort. Something she hadn't felt for years. Her mind gave into that one little shred of feeling, blocking at the possibility that danger lurked near. Jug-eums, soldiers, slave handlers, they were only a wisp of a memory that could be ignored.

Someone was speaking to her directly, their voice terribly close to her ear, but Hyun Ae did not desire to answer. She wanted to stay in this dream—this ridiculous hope—a little while longer. Slowly, the lights and sounds began to fade until, once again, Hyun Ae was enveloped in her dreams—and nightmares.

–

Hyun Ae's eyes flickered open, squinting at the light over her head as she tried desperately to steady her double vision. Her whole body trembled and her stomach swayed and pitched uneasily. Suddenly they appeared around her. Green clad men leering down at her, eyes dark and blood-thirsty. A Jug-eum's howl echoed in her ears. Hyun screamed and fought as they closed around her, but her body felt like cement. She could barely lift a finger against them. Her heart slammed into her chest as they approached, closer and closer. Pressing down harder and harder until air refused to enter her lungs.

She was suffocating. She was going to die. All that false hope was for nothing.

Dying, dying, dying!

She jerked awake, sucking in a lung full of air. A film of sweat covered her thin, trembling body. Nausea still twisted at her gut. She looked down at herself and panic began to rise at the hand cuffs locked around her bandaged wrists. She struggled and jerked at them weakly. Realizing she still wasn't safe, she cried out in frustration and jerked hard, earning a slicing pain in her left wrist.

“Hey, hey! Take it easy!” Hyun Ae was stunned into silence by the shock of blonde-white hair coming through the door way. “Keep doing that and you'll tear your IV out,” the young man chided, bending down to her level. Instinctively, Hyun Ae leaned away from him and her eyes traveled from the needle in the back of her hand to the bag of fluids hanging over her head. The man smiled brightly at her and showed her a key before getting to work unlocking the cuffs. “You were hallucinating,” he said. “You're going through the last few stages of withdrawal.” The cuffs dropped from her wrists. “Better?” he asked, still smiling.

The friendly expression almost had Hyun Ae mirroring it, it was so bright and open. His smile was gleaming, face scrunched up to the point his eyes disappeared. Hyun Ae nodded, realizing she'd been only staring and not answering his question. She rubbed at the bandages and looked down at them. Her right arm had been bitten into, but the left...

“We took the tracking device out of the other one,” the blonde explained, nodding to her left wrist. “They won't be able to find you anymore.” Relief flowed into Hyun Ae's body and the man saw her immediately relax. “Can I have a name?” Her guarded eyes snapped to him again, lips pressing into a thin line. The man kept his smile and continued, “I'm Daesung,” he said, motioning to himself. “I'm your primary caregiver here.”

“Where is here?” Hyun Ae asked, looking around at the small room she'd been put into. She was sitting on a cot set in the corner. Apart from that, there was a sink and a light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of some sort of metal and the ceiling hung low over them.

“The home of BigBang,” Daesung answered.

Hyun Ae looked at him dubiously. “BigBang is a legend. A false hope.”

“And that's what we like the Dakeu Jeon-won to believe. BigBang is real just like you and me.” Hyun Ae continued to study the blonde wearily. Daesung sighed. “Get some more rest. The more you sleep, the less you'll have to deal with withdrawal,” he said and rose to his feet. The woman looked past him at the doorway. Daesung followed her gaze. “You can leave if you want; no one's going to stop you.” He shrugged. “But I don't know why anyone would want to go back out there.” His somber look flashed back to a smile. “If you need anything to help you sleep, let me know.” And he exited the room, leaving Hyun Ae alone.

Slowly, she laid back down, pulling the blanket around her and trying desperately to ignore the nausea and aching. She shouldn't be surprised by the severity of withdrawal from Living Death. It was an extreme drug; the side effects your body was so used to were gone.

Living Death was a modified tranquilizer used to keep labor slaves—and sex slaves—at bay when they weren't working. They were shot up on the drug after long hours of labor, being left in their dorms in a comatose, “dead” state. When it was time for them to work again, the slaves were injected with Kkaeuda, which “awakened” one from Living Death. It caused a sense of numbness and unlimited energy. It decreased ones appetite and heightened metabolism. It made the slaves sometimes work far past their limit.

Hyun Ae had seen some slaves continue to work even as blood spurted from their lips, finally dying off when their heart gave out. They were only aware of what they were forced to do, not even being able to answer to their own bodies warnings.

She'd experienced the effects first hand. Working and working, not being able to do a thing, but what you'd done for years. Barely feeling the blisters and aches of nineteen hour work shifts. Then, disappearing into a blackness where one did not even dream. Only being awakened from the sleep to do it all again. It was a never-ending cycle. Though the slaves were mostly unresponsive, mentally they suffered. Being in such a vulnerable and recluse state, unable to do anything to save yourself...it was torture all on its own.

Hyun Ae closed her eyes, trying to forget about that numbness and helplessness. She was alive and in the hands of ones she wasn't sure if she could trust or not. However, it was better than staying in the hands of the Dakeu Jeon-won. It was better than listening to the moans of the dying and the sounds of shovels hitting hard ground. Listening to harsh orders being shouted into your ear as you could do nothing, but stand numbly.

It was better than waiting to die.