on the path (1/2)
on the path (1/2)
pg-13 (R to be safe)
kaisoo, chanhun
blood, graphic violence and descriptions (??)
rewritten a story of mines from november 2013. sort of based off ruth rendell's 'on the path' short story
It’s one of those typical nights you see in the old films. The streets reeked the scent of wet pavement in the cool air of the night. It wasn’t at all cold to the bone, but it was enough for people to throw on their jackets and scarves, desperate to maintain their body heat.
Everywhere you go, the lights of the city never die down. It’s always alive whether or not people walk around the streets, roaming around in search of a purpose. The lights never turn off in the bustling city of Seoul. Behind every window, illuminated or not, there’s a story behind it. Something is always going on behind those curtains that hide their lives from the world.
But there is one area where the light doesn’t reach it in the right way. The Path isn’t hidden from the world, having just enough surrounding light to show the alleyway, but it isn’t known for good. Multiple murders have been reported from that certain alley. According to some reports, the suspect is most likely a woman who is fairly young and beautiful, but others report a tall male with handsome features. But there is one thing these reports do share in common.
The suspects are seen wearing a scarf around their neck, which is used to strangle the poor victim according to some autopsy reports. On other articles, though, there have been reports of scars on the victim’s skin. One poor victim was unfortunately a Chinese student who was studying abroad. The male student, his name revealed as Lu Han, was indeed strangled to death, but there were other disturbing elements.
The student wore a scarf - what a mistake - and was found hanging from one of the electric poles. But around the narrow alley were bloodstains on its walls. Underneath Lu Han’s jacket was a shirt soaked in blood, a message carved into his cold, pale skin.
Cold perfect skin like a porcelain doll.
Jongin understands by what this killer means. Not easily disturbed by such images, he saw shots of Lu Han’s lifeless face. His eyes rolled back into his head, mouth hanging open as if he released a silent scream. The student must have had pale skin before, hell, maybe he glowed with it. But the once warm skin chilled to a cold blue. But nonetheless, he still looked beautiful, even after death.
Another man who fell victim to the murderer’s cold blood hands was also a Chinese student, Zhang Yixing. Unlike Lu Han, he wasn’t seen hanging from an electric pole. His arms were severed off, thrown into the nearest trash bin. It took days to find the body - torso - of the student. His legs were also severed from his body, but they were nowhere to be found. The message left by this murderer is as followed.
A heart of pure gold.
Tragic.
It intrigued Jongin why this person would choose another student from a foreign country, but as he lingered on the local-national news section, he found out another victim has been murdered last week. It’s always one each week, never two.
His name was Byun Baekhyun, and the pictures revealed were too grotesque even for himself. Pools of blood were all over an unknown area within the path that Jongin has yet to see. Does he even want to see it? Not even he knows. The murderer had stepped it up since the previous murder of Yixing. His limbs were also severed, yes, but the next part is what Jongin did not expect.
In fact, Jongin reconsiders on whether or not to click the photo that has been censored due to its disturbing content.
“Kim Jongin!” Joonmyun, his roommate, yelled from the kitchen. He was cooking something best to his abilities, but all Jongin smelled was something burning. “Are you reading more about that serial killer?”
He turned off his phone, shoving it into his jacket’s pocket. “Maybe,” he mumbled, standing up from the dining table. "I'm going out." He announced, grabbing his keys that laid on the table.
His friend turned around, "To the bar?" Jongin replied with a yeah. "If you take that alley again this week, god help me."
There is a reason why Jongin is interested with The Path. This path, alleyway if you will, is nearby where his shared apartment with Joonmyun is. Even before when the murderer appeared several weeks ago, Jongin has yet to encounter them.
He takes the alley to get to the bar. That's where he spends most of his weekend nights at. He never goes overboard, only drinking enough to feel a little bit tipsy but still sober.
"Relax, old man." His friend grunts in response, "I'll be perfectly safe." A mischievous smirk adorns his lips. "I think."
A sigh leaves his friend, "Do I need to remind you this killer has already claimed the lives of four victims in the past three weeks?"
Jongin must have missed an article.
"No, not really. You constantly remind me every hour."
Joonmyun's shoulders fall in defeat, turning his attention to the burning fried rice. "I wonder why I'm your roommate."
Jongin chuckles, "Should have taken that offer with Jongdae." He's at the door when Joonmyun turns around, "Alright, bye."
"Don't take the path!"
Jongin closes the door. He mockingly opens his mouth, imitating his friend. "Don't take the path, whatever." Grumbling, Jongin stuffs his hands into his pockets, making his way down the stairs and into the cold night air.
He steps out the door of the apartment complex, breathing in the chilly air. It fills his lungs and it runs through his veins, the cold oxygen coursing through. It’s relaxing, walking in the night air on his way to the bar, even if he does go through one of the paths that has been recently considered dangerous.
Jongin isn’t frightened at all as he enters the dark, narrow alleyway. It gives him a sense of adrenaline, something exciting to anticipate that could change with a snap of your fingers. As he walks betweens the buildings, he enters a spacious area that has abandoned metal barrels and litter scattered all over. There were puddles of rain from the storm hours ago, reflecting the moonlight into Jongin’s eyes.
He never looked down, up, or sideways. His eyes were focused straight ahead, the only sound is his boots on the wet pavement. But even through the corner of his eyes, he could see that there were dark stains on the walls of the alley he entered once again.
There were two alleys, of course. The recent murder has taken place in the one closest to the bar, not his shared home. It is a mystery as to why the police haven’t taped the area off, but he assumes its because anyone who decides to walk through this supposedly dangerous path has a death wish. But Jongin doesn’t; he just wants to feel the adrenaline slowly creep up on him.
The lights of the bar are visible as he nears the end of the alley. A few long strides later, he exits the dark and dampness of the feared path. Even if his favorite bar is located right next to where a murderer resides, it doesn’t stop any of the regulars from coming, including himself.
He crosses the streets not bothering to look both ways. It hasn’t been very busy lately for the past three weeks. Hands still in his pocket, he pushes past the door, walking towards his familiar seat at the bar.
The bartender walks up to him. He knows his name, Lee Taemin, who happens to be a year older than himself. Since Jongin’s a regular, Taemin’s grown accustomed to his presence. You could call them friends, others would say acquaintances, but they don’t really mind.
Witha bored expression on his face, Taemin asks, “Let me guess.” He doesn’t say anything because Jongin already knew what he was going to say.
“Not this time, Tae.” A smirk forms on his lips. Taemin rolls his eyes in reply. “Give me a sophisticated drink, and I’m sure you know what i’m talking about.”
“The classic martini, then?” Taemin raises an eyebrow, but Jongin says nothing, shrugging as he leans back into his chair. The bartender sighs, turning his back away as he prepares the drink for Jongin. He’s just feeling a little fancy in his slick black trenchcoat, matching sweatshirt and jeans underneath. Though the jeans aren’t really fancy, nor do they shelter well against the cold, but he admits that he does look fine in them.
Just then, a man slides into the stool next to Jongin as he leans back in his seat. He doesn’t spare a glance at the man, but he hears him mutter to Taemin his drink of choice. Well, he merely requested for any kind of drink, really, so it was actually Taemin’s drink of choice.
Jongin’s comfortably leaning back as he waits for his drinks until he feels holes burning into his skin. Maybe it was because the bar was slightly warm and he still had his heavy trenchcoat on, but he turned his head to find the man staring at him with wide eyes piqued with slight interest.
Jongin straightens his body as he stares back at the stranger, the atmosphere now tense and heated thanks to their impromptu staring contest. Once Taemin slams the glass down onto the table, Jongin flinches, losing their little game. The stranger’s eyes didn’t even twitch.
“Here’s your drink, sir.” Taemin slides a small shot glass into the stranger’s equally small hands. The man bows his head slightly, thanking him. Then, he places Jongin’s drink onto the table, sliding it towards him. “Enjoy your damn martini, Jongin.” He grumbled. The boy easily gets annoyed from what little Jongin does to him. It’s almost amusing, but Jongin does hope his attitude changes soon.
He thanks Taemin, who walks away even before he managed to get a word out. Then he turns to the stranger who continues to stare at him as if he was a fine specimen, which he totally is. “Cheers,” Jongin raises his glass off the table by a few inches. The man does the same.
Jongin takes only a sip of his sophisticated martini while the man next to him - he realizes that he looks quite small - downs most of his small glass in one go, the ice clinking against the glass loudly.
“I see you like to take them hard and straight on.”
The man laughs. It’s a light noise that easily fills the bar. “If I didn’t know better, it would sound like you’re trying to flirt.” He smiles, and Jongin notices his lips forming a heart shape. How cute.
Jongin moves his drink, holding the stem of the glass between his fingers. He turns his body towards the man, flaunting his slick leather coat along with his sweatshirt underneath. “With my looks, how can I not?”
“The name’s Do Kyungsoo. It’s nice to meet you, Jongin.” His eyes widened at the sound of his name from the stranger, Do Kyungsoo. “I’ve heard the bartender speak your name when he handed your drink.”
His heart rate calms down, having felt a little… off from this man. “Ah, you’re right. I am Jongin, Kim Jongin.” The two say nothing for a moment, until Jongin asks, “May I ask why you were staring at me?”
“You just seemed interesting to me, that’s all.”
“Should I take that as a compliment, or your attempt on trying to flirt?”
Kyungsoo laughs, “Take it however you want it, pretty boy.” The man then calls Taemin, asking for another of the drink. Taemin obliges quickly and is already sliding it towards him. Kyungsoo downs it in one shot. Jongin doesn’t even realize that he’s been staring when he feels a condensed droplet touch his skin. It was almost like a wake up call.
“You,” he starts, looking up at Jongin. Jongin can feel Kyungsoo’s eyes lingering on his neck. “You aren’t wearing a scarf. Are you not cold, or are you afraid of the murderer that supposedly lives near?”
He shrugs in response, lifting the glass to his mouth before answering. “The coat has plenty enough insulation to keep me warm. It isn’t that cold, as well.” He turns his head to face Kyungsoo, “And no, it’s not because of the murders. I walk down that path every weekend, specifically at this time just for the bar.” Kyungsoo hums, acknowledging what he said. But then he opens his mouth, saying Ah! quietly to himself. He checks his watch.
Jongin looks at the clock on the wall. It was thirty minutes past midnight, meaning he’s been here for about fifteen or so.
“I’m sorry,” The small man slides out of his seat, leaving a few bills on the counter that he pulled from the heavy jacket’s pocket. “I have to catch the bus. It was nice speaking to you, Jongin.” Kyungsoo wears a red scarf with a pattern of diamonds in varying shades. He pulls it up to his nose, smiling behind the fabric. Jongin watches Kyungsoo exit out of the bar, turning to the right where the bus stop is.
Jongin finishes his drink twenty minutes later. It’s been a while since he’s had a single drink only, but there were questionable thoughts popping up in his head ever since he saw Kyungsoo slide into the seat next to him. He leaves two extra bills for Taemin on the table as he walks out of the bar, hands buried deep into his coat.
Before Jongin stepped out of the bar, he checked the time once more on the clock. It was nearly five minutes until one. He took an unnecessary amount of time on one drink.
Jongin bumps into a slightly tall figure, hands shoved deep in his pocket as their shoulders bumped against each other. He turns around, apologizing quickly. The man did the same. Jongin briefly caught a glimpse of the boy’s face.
He was almost pale as snow, lips pink and small, coarse blonde hair falling right on his eyes. With winter nearly here, Jongin would mistake this person as a winter ghost. They bow their heads slightly, the man walking into the bar while Jongin walks the opposite way.
But as he makes his way back towards his apartment through the path once again, he finds the same man from the bar, Kyungsoo, sitting at the stop. The scarf was still pulled up right above his nose. Jongin walks up to the man, standing right in front of him, but he doesn’t move an inch. It wasn’t until he looked up did he notice Jongin standing right in front of him.
“I’ve been here for at least a minute.”
Kyungsoo shakes his head, standing up. “Sorry, I couldn’t see you. All of the black you’re wearing seems to blend in with the night.”
“Why haven’t you left already? It’s been about thirty minutes since you’ve left the bar.”
“I was a minute too late.” He shrugs, scarf falling loosely from his face by a bit. “I don’t even know why I stayed here. My place is near, just through that alley.” He points to where the entrance of the path, covered with shadows from surrounding lights.
Jongin quirks an eyebrow, lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, so you’re the one afraid of the path, are you?” Kyungsoo raises his hands as if in defeat, caught red handed. “I guess you could come with me. As I said before, I take this path on the way to the bar, and now I’m heading back home.” The man opened his mouth to say something regarding his routine, but Jongin silences him as he says, “I guess it’s because I get this feeling of anticipation whenever I’m walking through it. You can never know what might happen, and it’s thrilling. It’s like you’re walking into predatorial territory, like a lion’s den.” He sighs, already feeling the excitement bubbling inside of him.
Kyungsoo stares at him, slightly bewildered from his little speech. Jongin chuckles, motioning for Kyungsoo to follow him as he makes his way towards the path. He’s just a few feet away behind Jongin, eyes staring holes into his back, even after they enter the shadows between the two buildings
“Might want to be careful,” Jongin’s voice echoes slightly as it bounces off the walls. They’re nearly to that vacant open space that rests between the two passageways. “There’s some puddles here, and if you look close enough, you can see where the blood of this murderer’s victims have dried.” There’s that familiar feeling Jongin gets whenever he walks through the path. He’s anticipating something but he doesn’t know what it is. His senses are alert and he feels the adrenaline building up inside of him.
“You seem to be very interested with them.”
They’ve reached the open area, but Kyungsoo stops suddenly. It takes a few moments for Jongin to register the steps behind him have gone silent. He turns around, seeing Kyungsoo stare up at the sky. The moon was surrounded by a few clouds in wisps, giving an eerie glow in the night. Then, he turns his attention to Jongin, who stands only a few feet away from him.
Kyungsoo walks up to him, scarf falling from his face completely. “I might think you’re the murderer with the way you talk about him, his victims, and this path.” A smile forms on Kyungsoo’s plush, heart shape lips.
“Not at all,” Jongin quickly defends. “It’s just… really neat.”
“I see.” is all he says before motioning Jongin to continue. He eyes the man strangely, slowly turning his back away with hesitation. He doesn’t move a while, seeing if Kyungsoo would do anything. He only walks forward when he feels Kyungsoo lightly push him. Jongin turns to face the man. “Go on.” His red scarf was no longer on his neck, but wrapped around his hands. He seems to have sensed Jongin’s eyes and responded with, “My hands are cold.” But Kyungsoo has pockets.
Jongin senses danger from this man. Whether it be from his unusually large eyes to the way he holds the red scarf in his hands, something isn’t right. The adrenaline is still there, but it’s not the same kind of anticipation he gets when he’s alone.
It’s the fear of death.
He turns his back quickly, trying to run from Kyungsoo, but he’s forcefully held back when something wraps around his throat, cutting his off his supply of oxygen immediately. The grip was strong when Jongin tried to pry whatever was choking him off, but then felt the soft fabric. It was a red scarf, and it looked like an eyesore through the tears forming in Jongin’s eyes.
His struggling body was brought down until he could feel the man’s breathing on his ear. He would shiver if he wasn’t being strangled to death. “I agree, Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s voice wasn’t the same as the man from the bar. It had a venomous quality to it. “This is really neat.” He pulled the scarf further down, Jongin almost falling from his strong grip and onto the cold ground.
“I think you should be careful.” Tears streamed down his face. His lungs felt like they were on fire, as if ready to burst open through his chest. He felt the cool air touch his heated skin. Kyungsoo’s hand went underneath the jacket and sweater, and he felt the soft skin of Jongin’s back. It was throbbing like the rest of his body. How cute.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why I kill beautiful people?” Jongin tries to remember the lifeless face of the boy he read in the article earlier in the night. There was something etched onto his body complimenting him or something. The lack of oxygen blurs his thoughts. “Whoever catches my eyes simply dies. Isn’t it a nice motto to live by?”
Something sharp digs into the skin of Jongin’s back. He feels the searing, burning pain as the metal cuts through his skin, leaving etched markings. The warmth of blood flows from the wounds, soaking his pants. Jongin wasn’t even aware of Kyungsoo was holding a blade; maybe that’s why he wouldn’t use his pockets.
“Since you’re wearing all black, it would be hard for anyone to notice the beautiful, bright stains of your blood, no?” He smiled as he dragged the blade across his back, carving letters into the smooth skin. “I wonder how long it’ll take for anyone to find you… Or if they’ll find you at all.” His vision was starting to black out. Jongin has no idea how he managed to stay alive for this long, but he felt his strength weakening and his body becoming lighter.
He felt himself fall onto the ground rather roughly, feeling the wet pavement against his cheek. The blood flowed from his wound, pooling underneath his stomach. The blade brought a sharp pain, but became dull as Kyungsoo continued on. His entire back was wet with his own blood. Jongin felt himself slowly losing consciousness, the scarf around his throat never relenting in strength.
“Goodnight, my pretty boy.” Jongin blacked out before Kyungsoo stabbed him several times on his back.
-
Several days passed since the incident. Jongin’s body has yet to be found since his murder. It wasn’t until Friday - nearly a week since his murder - did the police find another victim. The path was simply too dark to see, even in broad daylight. Jongin’s body was hanging from a clothes pole, just like previous victims.
The police searched his body, looking for signs as previous victims. They found underneath his blood soaked sweater wounds. The wounds were shaped into letters, forming words, a note to whoever found it.It was the same for the victim named Lu Han, but it contained a different note. Never did the murderer leave the same note behind on the victim’s body.
My pretty boy.
pg-13 (R to be safe)
kaisoo, chanhun
blood, graphic violence and descriptions (??)
rewritten a story of mines from november 2013. sort of based off ruth rendell's 'on the path' short story
It’s one of those typical nights you see in the old films. The streets reeked the scent of wet pavement in the cool air of the night. It wasn’t at all cold to the bone, but it was enough for people to throw on their jackets and scarves, desperate to maintain their body heat.
Everywhere you go, the lights of the city never die down. It’s always alive whether or not people walk around the streets, roaming around in search of a purpose. The lights never turn off in the bustling city of Seoul. Behind every window, illuminated or not, there’s a story behind it. Something is always going on behind those curtains that hide their lives from the world.
But there is one area where the light doesn’t reach it in the right way. The Path isn’t hidden from the world, having just enough surrounding light to show the alleyway, but it isn’t known for good. Multiple murders have been reported from that certain alley. According to some reports, the suspect is most likely a woman who is fairly young and beautiful, but others report a tall male with handsome features. But there is one thing these reports do share in common.
The suspects are seen wearing a scarf around their neck, which is used to strangle the poor victim according to some autopsy reports. On other articles, though, there have been reports of scars on the victim’s skin. One poor victim was unfortunately a Chinese student who was studying abroad. The male student, his name revealed as Lu Han, was indeed strangled to death, but there were other disturbing elements.
The student wore a scarf - what a mistake - and was found hanging from one of the electric poles. But around the narrow alley were bloodstains on its walls. Underneath Lu Han’s jacket was a shirt soaked in blood, a message carved into his cold, pale skin.
Cold perfect skin like a porcelain doll.
Jongin understands by what this killer means. Not easily disturbed by such images, he saw shots of Lu Han’s lifeless face. His eyes rolled back into his head, mouth hanging open as if he released a silent scream. The student must have had pale skin before, hell, maybe he glowed with it. But the once warm skin chilled to a cold blue. But nonetheless, he still looked beautiful, even after death.
Another man who fell victim to the murderer’s cold blood hands was also a Chinese student, Zhang Yixing. Unlike Lu Han, he wasn’t seen hanging from an electric pole. His arms were severed off, thrown into the nearest trash bin. It took days to find the body - torso - of the student. His legs were also severed from his body, but they were nowhere to be found. The message left by this murderer is as followed.
A heart of pure gold.
Tragic.
It intrigued Jongin why this person would choose another student from a foreign country, but as he lingered on the local-national news section, he found out another victim has been murdered last week. It’s always one each week, never two.
His name was Byun Baekhyun, and the pictures revealed were too grotesque even for himself. Pools of blood were all over an unknown area within the path that Jongin has yet to see. Does he even want to see it? Not even he knows. The murderer had stepped it up since the previous murder of Yixing. His limbs were also severed, yes, but the next part is what Jongin did not expect.
In fact, Jongin reconsiders on whether or not to click the photo that has been censored due to its disturbing content.
“Kim Jongin!” Joonmyun, his roommate, yelled from the kitchen. He was cooking something best to his abilities, but all Jongin smelled was something burning. “Are you reading more about that serial killer?”
He turned off his phone, shoving it into his jacket’s pocket. “Maybe,” he mumbled, standing up from the dining table. "I'm going out." He announced, grabbing his keys that laid on the table.
His friend turned around, "To the bar?" Jongin replied with a yeah. "If you take that alley again this week, god help me."
There is a reason why Jongin is interested with The Path. This path, alleyway if you will, is nearby where his shared apartment with Joonmyun is. Even before when the murderer appeared several weeks ago, Jongin has yet to encounter them.
He takes the alley to get to the bar. That's where he spends most of his weekend nights at. He never goes overboard, only drinking enough to feel a little bit tipsy but still sober.
"Relax, old man." His friend grunts in response, "I'll be perfectly safe." A mischievous smirk adorns his lips. "I think."
A sigh leaves his friend, "Do I need to remind you this killer has already claimed the lives of four victims in the past three weeks?"
Jongin must have missed an article.
"No, not really. You constantly remind me every hour."
Joonmyun's shoulders fall in defeat, turning his attention to the burning fried rice. "I wonder why I'm your roommate."
Jongin chuckles, "Should have taken that offer with Jongdae." He's at the door when Joonmyun turns around, "Alright, bye."
"Don't take the path!"
Jongin closes the door. He mockingly opens his mouth, imitating his friend. "Don't take the path, whatever." Grumbling, Jongin stuffs his hands into his pockets, making his way down the stairs and into the cold night air.
He steps out the door of the apartment complex, breathing in the chilly air. It fills his lungs and it runs through his veins, the cold oxygen coursing through. It’s relaxing, walking in the night air on his way to the bar, even if he does go through one of the paths that has been recently considered dangerous.
Jongin isn’t frightened at all as he enters the dark, narrow alleyway. It gives him a sense of adrenaline, something exciting to anticipate that could change with a snap of your fingers. As he walks betweens the buildings, he enters a spacious area that has abandoned metal barrels and litter scattered all over. There were puddles of rain from the storm hours ago, reflecting the moonlight into Jongin’s eyes.
He never looked down, up, or sideways. His eyes were focused straight ahead, the only sound is his boots on the wet pavement. But even through the corner of his eyes, he could see that there were dark stains on the walls of the alley he entered once again.
There were two alleys, of course. The recent murder has taken place in the one closest to the bar, not his shared home. It is a mystery as to why the police haven’t taped the area off, but he assumes its because anyone who decides to walk through this supposedly dangerous path has a death wish. But Jongin doesn’t; he just wants to feel the adrenaline slowly creep up on him.
The lights of the bar are visible as he nears the end of the alley. A few long strides later, he exits the dark and dampness of the feared path. Even if his favorite bar is located right next to where a murderer resides, it doesn’t stop any of the regulars from coming, including himself.
He crosses the streets not bothering to look both ways. It hasn’t been very busy lately for the past three weeks. Hands still in his pocket, he pushes past the door, walking towards his familiar seat at the bar.
The bartender walks up to him. He knows his name, Lee Taemin, who happens to be a year older than himself. Since Jongin’s a regular, Taemin’s grown accustomed to his presence. You could call them friends, others would say acquaintances, but they don’t really mind.
Witha bored expression on his face, Taemin asks, “Let me guess.” He doesn’t say anything because Jongin already knew what he was going to say.
“Not this time, Tae.” A smirk forms on his lips. Taemin rolls his eyes in reply. “Give me a sophisticated drink, and I’m sure you know what i’m talking about.”
“The classic martini, then?” Taemin raises an eyebrow, but Jongin says nothing, shrugging as he leans back into his chair. The bartender sighs, turning his back away as he prepares the drink for Jongin. He’s just feeling a little fancy in his slick black trenchcoat, matching sweatshirt and jeans underneath. Though the jeans aren’t really fancy, nor do they shelter well against the cold, but he admits that he does look fine in them.
Just then, a man slides into the stool next to Jongin as he leans back in his seat. He doesn’t spare a glance at the man, but he hears him mutter to Taemin his drink of choice. Well, he merely requested for any kind of drink, really, so it was actually Taemin’s drink of choice.
Jongin’s comfortably leaning back as he waits for his drinks until he feels holes burning into his skin. Maybe it was because the bar was slightly warm and he still had his heavy trenchcoat on, but he turned his head to find the man staring at him with wide eyes piqued with slight interest.
Jongin straightens his body as he stares back at the stranger, the atmosphere now tense and heated thanks to their impromptu staring contest. Once Taemin slams the glass down onto the table, Jongin flinches, losing their little game. The stranger’s eyes didn’t even twitch.
“Here’s your drink, sir.” Taemin slides a small shot glass into the stranger’s equally small hands. The man bows his head slightly, thanking him. Then, he places Jongin’s drink onto the table, sliding it towards him. “Enjoy your damn martini, Jongin.” He grumbled. The boy easily gets annoyed from what little Jongin does to him. It’s almost amusing, but Jongin does hope his attitude changes soon.
He thanks Taemin, who walks away even before he managed to get a word out. Then he turns to the stranger who continues to stare at him as if he was a fine specimen, which he totally is. “Cheers,” Jongin raises his glass off the table by a few inches. The man does the same.
Jongin takes only a sip of his sophisticated martini while the man next to him - he realizes that he looks quite small - downs most of his small glass in one go, the ice clinking against the glass loudly.
“I see you like to take them hard and straight on.”
The man laughs. It’s a light noise that easily fills the bar. “If I didn’t know better, it would sound like you’re trying to flirt.” He smiles, and Jongin notices his lips forming a heart shape. How cute.
Jongin moves his drink, holding the stem of the glass between his fingers. He turns his body towards the man, flaunting his slick leather coat along with his sweatshirt underneath. “With my looks, how can I not?”
“The name’s Do Kyungsoo. It’s nice to meet you, Jongin.” His eyes widened at the sound of his name from the stranger, Do Kyungsoo. “I’ve heard the bartender speak your name when he handed your drink.”
His heart rate calms down, having felt a little… off from this man. “Ah, you’re right. I am Jongin, Kim Jongin.” The two say nothing for a moment, until Jongin asks, “May I ask why you were staring at me?”
“You just seemed interesting to me, that’s all.”
“Should I take that as a compliment, or your attempt on trying to flirt?”
Kyungsoo laughs, “Take it however you want it, pretty boy.” The man then calls Taemin, asking for another of the drink. Taemin obliges quickly and is already sliding it towards him. Kyungsoo downs it in one shot. Jongin doesn’t even realize that he’s been staring when he feels a condensed droplet touch his skin. It was almost like a wake up call.
“You,” he starts, looking up at Jongin. Jongin can feel Kyungsoo’s eyes lingering on his neck. “You aren’t wearing a scarf. Are you not cold, or are you afraid of the murderer that supposedly lives near?”
He shrugs in response, lifting the glass to his mouth before answering. “The coat has plenty enough insulation to keep me warm. It isn’t that cold, as well.” He turns his head to face Kyungsoo, “And no, it’s not because of the murders. I walk down that path every weekend, specifically at this time just for the bar.” Kyungsoo hums, acknowledging what he said. But then he opens his mouth, saying Ah! quietly to himself. He checks his watch.
Jongin looks at the clock on the wall. It was thirty minutes past midnight, meaning he’s been here for about fifteen or so.
“I’m sorry,” The small man slides out of his seat, leaving a few bills on the counter that he pulled from the heavy jacket’s pocket. “I have to catch the bus. It was nice speaking to you, Jongin.” Kyungsoo wears a red scarf with a pattern of diamonds in varying shades. He pulls it up to his nose, smiling behind the fabric. Jongin watches Kyungsoo exit out of the bar, turning to the right where the bus stop is.
Jongin finishes his drink twenty minutes later. It’s been a while since he’s had a single drink only, but there were questionable thoughts popping up in his head ever since he saw Kyungsoo slide into the seat next to him. He leaves two extra bills for Taemin on the table as he walks out of the bar, hands buried deep into his coat.
Before Jongin stepped out of the bar, he checked the time once more on the clock. It was nearly five minutes until one. He took an unnecessary amount of time on one drink.
Jongin bumps into a slightly tall figure, hands shoved deep in his pocket as their shoulders bumped against each other. He turns around, apologizing quickly. The man did the same. Jongin briefly caught a glimpse of the boy’s face.
He was almost pale as snow, lips pink and small, coarse blonde hair falling right on his eyes. With winter nearly here, Jongin would mistake this person as a winter ghost. They bow their heads slightly, the man walking into the bar while Jongin walks the opposite way.
But as he makes his way back towards his apartment through the path once again, he finds the same man from the bar, Kyungsoo, sitting at the stop. The scarf was still pulled up right above his nose. Jongin walks up to the man, standing right in front of him, but he doesn’t move an inch. It wasn’t until he looked up did he notice Jongin standing right in front of him.
“I’ve been here for at least a minute.”
Kyungsoo shakes his head, standing up. “Sorry, I couldn’t see you. All of the black you’re wearing seems to blend in with the night.”
“Why haven’t you left already? It’s been about thirty minutes since you’ve left the bar.”
“I was a minute too late.” He shrugs, scarf falling loosely from his face by a bit. “I don’t even know why I stayed here. My place is near, just through that alley.” He points to where the entrance of the path, covered with shadows from surrounding lights.
Jongin quirks an eyebrow, lips curving into a smirk. “Oh, so you’re the one afraid of the path, are you?” Kyungsoo raises his hands as if in defeat, caught red handed. “I guess you could come with me. As I said before, I take this path on the way to the bar, and now I’m heading back home.” The man opened his mouth to say something regarding his routine, but Jongin silences him as he says, “I guess it’s because I get this feeling of anticipation whenever I’m walking through it. You can never know what might happen, and it’s thrilling. It’s like you’re walking into predatorial territory, like a lion’s den.” He sighs, already feeling the excitement bubbling inside of him.
Kyungsoo stares at him, slightly bewildered from his little speech. Jongin chuckles, motioning for Kyungsoo to follow him as he makes his way towards the path. He’s just a few feet away behind Jongin, eyes staring holes into his back, even after they enter the shadows between the two buildings
“Might want to be careful,” Jongin’s voice echoes slightly as it bounces off the walls. They’re nearly to that vacant open space that rests between the two passageways. “There’s some puddles here, and if you look close enough, you can see where the blood of this murderer’s victims have dried.” There’s that familiar feeling Jongin gets whenever he walks through the path. He’s anticipating something but he doesn’t know what it is. His senses are alert and he feels the adrenaline building up inside of him.
“You seem to be very interested with them.”
They’ve reached the open area, but Kyungsoo stops suddenly. It takes a few moments for Jongin to register the steps behind him have gone silent. He turns around, seeing Kyungsoo stare up at the sky. The moon was surrounded by a few clouds in wisps, giving an eerie glow in the night. Then, he turns his attention to Jongin, who stands only a few feet away from him.
Kyungsoo walks up to him, scarf falling from his face completely. “I might think you’re the murderer with the way you talk about him, his victims, and this path.” A smile forms on Kyungsoo’s plush, heart shape lips.
“Not at all,” Jongin quickly defends. “It’s just… really neat.”
“I see.” is all he says before motioning Jongin to continue. He eyes the man strangely, slowly turning his back away with hesitation. He doesn’t move a while, seeing if Kyungsoo would do anything. He only walks forward when he feels Kyungsoo lightly push him. Jongin turns to face the man. “Go on.” His red scarf was no longer on his neck, but wrapped around his hands. He seems to have sensed Jongin’s eyes and responded with, “My hands are cold.” But Kyungsoo has pockets.
Jongin senses danger from this man. Whether it be from his unusually large eyes to the way he holds the red scarf in his hands, something isn’t right. The adrenaline is still there, but it’s not the same kind of anticipation he gets when he’s alone.
It’s the fear of death.
He turns his back quickly, trying to run from Kyungsoo, but he’s forcefully held back when something wraps around his throat, cutting his off his supply of oxygen immediately. The grip was strong when Jongin tried to pry whatever was choking him off, but then felt the soft fabric. It was a red scarf, and it looked like an eyesore through the tears forming in Jongin’s eyes.
His struggling body was brought down until he could feel the man’s breathing on his ear. He would shiver if he wasn’t being strangled to death. “I agree, Jongin.” Kyungsoo’s voice wasn’t the same as the man from the bar. It had a venomous quality to it. “This is really neat.” He pulled the scarf further down, Jongin almost falling from his strong grip and onto the cold ground.
“I think you should be careful.” Tears streamed down his face. His lungs felt like they were on fire, as if ready to burst open through his chest. He felt the cool air touch his heated skin. Kyungsoo’s hand went underneath the jacket and sweater, and he felt the soft skin of Jongin’s back. It was throbbing like the rest of his body. How cute.
“Haven’t you ever wondered why I kill beautiful people?” Jongin tries to remember the lifeless face of the boy he read in the article earlier in the night. There was something etched onto his body complimenting him or something. The lack of oxygen blurs his thoughts. “Whoever catches my eyes simply dies. Isn’t it a nice motto to live by?”
Something sharp digs into the skin of Jongin’s back. He feels the searing, burning pain as the metal cuts through his skin, leaving etched markings. The warmth of blood flows from the wounds, soaking his pants. Jongin wasn’t even aware of Kyungsoo was holding a blade; maybe that’s why he wouldn’t use his pockets.
“Since you’re wearing all black, it would be hard for anyone to notice the beautiful, bright stains of your blood, no?” He smiled as he dragged the blade across his back, carving letters into the smooth skin. “I wonder how long it’ll take for anyone to find you… Or if they’ll find you at all.” His vision was starting to black out. Jongin has no idea how he managed to stay alive for this long, but he felt his strength weakening and his body becoming lighter.
He felt himself fall onto the ground rather roughly, feeling the wet pavement against his cheek. The blood flowed from his wound, pooling underneath his stomach. The blade brought a sharp pain, but became dull as Kyungsoo continued on. His entire back was wet with his own blood. Jongin felt himself slowly losing consciousness, the scarf around his throat never relenting in strength.
“Goodnight, my pretty boy.” Jongin blacked out before Kyungsoo stabbed him several times on his back.
-
Several days passed since the incident. Jongin’s body has yet to be found since his murder. It wasn’t until Friday - nearly a week since his murder - did the police find another victim. The path was simply too dark to see, even in broad daylight. Jongin’s body was hanging from a clothes pole, just like previous victims.
The police searched his body, looking for signs as previous victims. They found underneath his blood soaked sweater wounds. The wounds were shaped into letters, forming words, a note to whoever found it.It was the same for the victim named Lu Han, but it contained a different note. Never did the murderer leave the same note behind on the victim’s body.
My pretty boy.