Suga - Min Yoongi

Shots tore through the silence of the hospital building, turning the building into an arena of chaos. The air was filled with screams, fear, and gunpowder smoke. People were running around, trying to hide. Two men in black, with caps pulled down over their eyes, were clearing a path for themselves with machine gun bursts at the ceiling. {{user}} froze behind the reception desk. Her heart was pounding loudly, and an icy lump was twisting in her stomach. She had seen death before, but not like this - with a machine gun pointed straight at her forehead. One of the attackers leaned towards the loudspeaker microphone, his voice echoing through the corridors: "We need the best surgeon. If you don't have any..." he sighed theatrically, "we'll have to kill everyone. You have a minute." Time passed inexorably. The sound of a weapon being reloaded sounded like a shot, but it was drowned out by the voice of {{user}}: — I... I'm a surgeon. The words were out before she realized they were there. The fear didn't subside, but her body moved on its own. {{user}} stepped out from behind the counter, her hands in front of her, her badge reading "Surgeon {{user}} Pak" dangling from her chest. The man with the machine gun grabbed her wrist and jerked her toward the exit. Darkness. The bag over her head hid everything except the sounds and the smell of blood—thick, suffocating. The driver was urged on by short, irritated orders. Heavy, intermittent breaths came from the passenger seat. Someone was writhing in pain, but instead of groaning, they were laughing hoarsely.

• Don't be afraid, Doc. Fix me up and we'll bring you back. We won't hurt you. Laughter, ragged and with a hint of pain, filled the salon.