THIS IS BACK AS WELL!!!!!
I don't know why this one took so long...I've had half a post written for absolutely ages...
but i never finished it O_O
Anyway...
I don't like it XD But..hey! it's an update! lol
Also.....please don't kill me about the ending? Okay? okay!
Title: Ars moriendi (The Art Of Dying)
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Super Junior (with brief mentions of SHINee and U-Kiss)
Pairing(s): ShiHan/HanWon
Warnings: Angst, AU, Character death, Blood, Graphic Scenes of Murder, Trafficking of Minors, Prostitution, Drug use, Violence, Graphic Sexual Scenes, Non-con.
Summary: Some claim death is an art form, but to newly acquired foreign Detective Han Geng there's nothing artistic about six brutal murders in the space of two weeks, the victims, all well known Pimps and corner drug dealers, except for the latest, a mere 14 year old boy with no name, and no apparent family, yet brutally bludgeoned like the rest. When the rest of The Seoul Metropolitan Police Service write it off as another drug related incident, Han Geng isn't convinced and decides to delve deeper, soon becoming swept up in the horror and danger of the underground world, where anything is done to stay alive...
Part: 8 of ?
The air across the long since closed Training Gym was thick with choking tendrils of its daily dose of musky perspiration still waiting to be filtered through the special air cleansing vents standing in uniform along the ceiling above, casting a sense of pungency across the would be artistic scene of glittering silver moonlight strobes bouncing off the obsessively polished metal of the apparatus to shower down across the entire area, almost casting a false glow to the impending midnight gloom. Yet all of this remained oblivious to the two bodies still inhabiting the Gym's main room, the only sounds audible amongst the sleepy silence being the patterned thuds of a single fist against the cushioning of the hanging punch bag and the accompanying pants and occasional hiss of harsh, tiring breath fighting through a steadily increasing ripple of pain, the creator completely unaware of their audience lurking in the shadows by the entranceway watching with sharp, investigative eyes as he swayed the agony away.
Gritting his teeth, Siwon once again slammed his injured and freshly un-bandaged fist into the red leather of the boxing equipment, ignoring the crackling protest of his charcoaled skin as he forced his fingers into a tighter formation, despite the fact Alexander had advised him not to use his hand at all for another few weeks until the skin had begun to heal, and even then should only do easy, basic tasks that wouldn't aggravate the injuries even further. Yet the moment Siwon had been released from the Clinic the remotely eccentric Doctor ran on the outskirts of the city centre, the young Korean had ignored his earlier promises to head straight down into Leeteuk's care and merely marched his way back to his traditional gym, knowing it would be open, before ripping the bandages away from his skin with an almighty roar of pent up frustration, barely within reach of his desired equipment before he swung his fist straight into the leather, revelling in the sharp spike of pain that shot through the network of nerve endings in result.
Now two hours later, Siwon could barely feel the protests rattling his nervous system as his body once again threatened to fall into shock, the still burnt and crackled skin across his palm flaking away with every sporadic twitch of his fingers from being curled up too tight for too long, breathing through the pain with tensed jaws and grinding teeth as endless streams of blood slid down the pale forearm to drip onto the dark wood flooring, a slightly distorted mirror of the tears now cascading unacknowledged and unchallenged down his sharp cheekbones. He didn't fully understand why he had gone against his promise to his Doctor Hyung and not returned to Leeteuk, despite the fact that he knew full well by now the pair of them would know he wasn't where he was supposed to be and would be frantically searching for him, but he couldn't bring himself to care as his fist slammed once again against the bag and crumpled, draining whatever fight he had left in his system, leaving him to collapse forward and anchor himself around the equipment, legs sagging beneath him.
Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, a pair of toned, pale and slightly scarred arms slid around his waist, successfully lifting him upwards and backwards to rest against a solid, warm and somewhat familiar chest as gentle, soothing vocals curled over the shell of his ear in hot breaths, their words completely illegible to the exhausted male who despite not knowing who had him, merely sank backwards with a small, shaking sigh. Head lolling back against the sharp definition of his supports clavicle, Siwon peered blearily up at the ceiling, brain not fully registering he was moving until he was sat encased between a pair of heavily toned thighs atop the pile of work mats in the corner, the owners hands moving from his waist to brush the curling bangs gently out of his eye line and rub soothingly against his heaving chest.
“I thought I'd find you here.” As the male behind him spoke, after a few minutes of comfortable, relaxing silence, Siwon finally able to distinguish the words and consequently the owner of said vocals, the younger male smiled softly as his head tilted backwards to rest against the curve of the others shoulder, watching through still slightly blurred irises as the mass of purple and black bangs hovered over him, sharp, pondering orbs shining through the self-made shadows across his own features staring scarily intrusive down at him. “Why'd you disappear Wonnie? Leeteuk Hyung is torn between pulling his hair out in panic and pulling Xander Hyung apart with his nails one layer of skin at a time.”
“I...I don't know. I didn't want to go back,” Siwon started with a sigh, eyes slipping closed as the elder male's fingers traced over his now exposed forehead gently, subconsciously leaning into the touch once again, comfortable in the knowledge that it wasn't going to turn aggressive like his Appa's. “...I didn't want to face everyone, I couldn't stomach the idea of the pity and stuff...and...I don't know, I felt really angry, I came here because I know if I'd gone back I would have hit someone. Is Umma annoyed at me Maru?”
“I don't think you would have hit someone, especially not that lot, you love them all too much to hurt them, however...that doesn't mean you had to come here and ruin your hand even more does it?” The elder male sighed, fingers twitching slightly against Siwon's form as the injured male merely raised his hand to eye level and flexed his still steadily bleeding fingers experimentally, trying to prevent himself from reaching forward to test the skin for himself. “You could have come to me, I would have helped you....although...I'm not going to lie, I think you're three minutes away from being grounded for life the way Leeteuk Hyung is right now. But he's worried, not annoyed.”
“I couldn't come to see you Kibum Hyung, you live with Mr. Better-Then-Everyone, if I had come to your place I would have hit him.” Siwon stated, face scrunching in dislike for the aforementioned male who he rarely called by his proper name, snuggling closer to the minutely taller male as the arms slid back to his waist and tightened around his form accordingly, own smile dimpling at the small amused chuckle that escaped his Hyung. “...Aish~ Do I have to go back and face Umma?” he questioned a moments contemplative silence later, turning a wide eyed, kicked puppy pout up at the oddly colour haired male.
“Jonghyun-ah hasn't been at home in a few days, you're more likely to bump into him in the streets then at our flat.” Kibum smiled, before it quickly morphed into a frustrated grimace as he groaned and swiftly clamped his hand down over the wide onyx pools gleaming up at him, ignoring the fact that look worked far too often on him. “Yes! You have to go back and face you're Umma, Leeteuk Hyung would string me up if he found out I'd seen you and not sent you home!”
“Can't I go home with you or something? I don't want to go home and face everyone...face the children.” Siwon breathed, not bothering to try and shift Kibum's fingers away from his eyes as he spoke, noting with slight amusement the small ticklish shivers that spread through his Hyung's system from the soft swipe of his eyelashes as he blinked. “Even if I do have to face Mr. Narcissism.”
“I know what this is about.” Kibum sighed, moving his spare arm from around Siwon's slender waist to push his own bangs distractedly out of his eye line, not missing the increased, nervous tremble in the younger male's limbs. “You don't want to face the children after what they saw, because you wanted to protect them from knowing what hell you go through...but more specifically you don't want to face Henry-yah, since Appa hit him before you realised and intervened and you feel like you've failed in your duty to protect and care for him.” he finished, eyes rolling as Siwon merely froze beneath him, eyes darting everywhere behind his hand, Kibum growling in annoyance at the silent yet blatant answer from the smaller Korean. “For Christ's sake Siwon-ah! It was one punch! You saved Henry-yah from a full beating, why can't you accept that you have once again gone above and beyond what's expected of you? Fucking hell, you threw a punch at your Appa in retaliation for him hitting Henry-yah, I am surprised, and they are very lucky you aren't being flung into a river somewhere wrapped in plastic.”
“You didn't see the look on Henry-yah's face Maru. It's the first time Appa's ever hit him, I don't even know why, all I know is he came in from work one night incredibly nervous...clung to me the entire day while he slept, but he refused to tell me what had happened.” Siwon echoed, refusing to acknowledge Kibum's underlying rant about how he was lucky to still be alive, let alone in one piece, his attempts at an explanation almost falling on deaf ears as the purple mass of bangs verbally exuded without seemingly pausing for breath. “I don't know why I went for Appa...I've never been voluntarily violent before, even when Mr. Too-Short-To-Function and Jongwoon Hyung used to kick the hell out of me.”
“Whoa! Wait, you told me Jonghyun-ah used to beat you, but Yesung Hyung too?! If I had known that I would have started that fight with him much sooner.” Kibum snarled, arms curling back into their original, protective position as Siwon merely chuckled and snuggled closer again, turning slightly so his cheek was pushed against the elder male's clavicle, shaking his mass of ebony tresses momentarily in response. “What did Jongwoon do? He never struck me as the bully type.”
“Oh...Not much, It was only once...Not long before he died actually, I was....fifteen? Fourteen maybe? And he was racing us round the old house I used to live in with Heechullie Hyung, HaeHyuk and the others, but I won him...I won everyone actually...more then once, and he'd had quite a bit to drink by this point and just lost it and went for me.” Siwon explained, torn between smiling at the fond memories of himself and the twins charging up and down the stairs, himself almost lapping the other two as they squealed, squawked and kicked out of him in an attempt to slow him down, and shuddering at the murderous glint in an obviously inebriated Jongwoon's eyes as he rounded on him, knife glinting. “The big scar down most of my spine is from him.”
“Well...the fuckers dead now. I don't care.” Kibum hissed, hard done by not to push Siwon forward and tug the back of his shirt up in order to check himself just how bad the old scar was now four years on. “Is it true about Donghae-yah by the way? Did he really run off and go find that foreign Detective? Of his own choice?”
“He did.” Siwon answered simply, watching curiously as Kibum moved a single arm from his waist to fish into his jacket pockets and remove a small printed photo and a scrap corner of paper, hastily scribbled over with barely legible characters, attention moving to the photo as the elder male turned it towards him, asking if the male subject was the same Detective, something which Siwon, after barely a seconds glance at the deep, choppy bangs, mirrored aviators and gracefully dangerous stance, nodded his head four times in quick succession. “Yes. Definitely him. He's Chinese, not been in the country that long.”
“Chinese?!” Kibum echoed, eyes widening slightly in disbelief, taking a few moments to observe the photo closely himself before sharp, almost bark-like ironic laughter bubbled up against his lips. “No wonder Appa is fuming, he hates it when the Korean ones poke around in his world, let alone the Chinese ones, you know how Anti-Chinese he is. I'm still surprised he let ZhouMi Hyung live after finding out about our world, with him being Chinese. No one Chinese or remotely non-Korean is allowed to be in his organisation.”
“Yes. Which is why Donghae Hyung went to him, there's no way he could be one of the corrupt ones involved with Appa.” Siwon replied, sitting up after a few moments thought to peer questioningly up at Kibum. “Why'd you ask anyway?”
“Oh...Don't worry yourself about it Wonnie-yah, just...hang in there, everything will be back to normal soon enough with no one poking around, don't you worry.” Kibum smiled, leaning forward briefly to press a tiny, protectively sibling kiss to the youngster's forehead and refusing to answer any more of Siwon's curious questions.
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Stomping exhaustedly up the rickety, worn down square spiral staircase at the back of what looked like little more then a deserted warehouse, but was in fact one of the grittiest brothels the Chinese Detective had ever seen in his many years in the service, Han Geng bit back a yawn as he attempted not to slip on the damp wood of the steps, which had been barely half an hour ago flowing with endless streams of forgotten bath water. When he had received the phone call at four in the morning, Han Geng had been ready to turn his phone off and roll over once more, in a vain hopes he'd be able to get more then two hours sleep for once, only to blink harshly at the tiny screen in shock as Elison's name flashed up at him in time to the strange, plodding ringtone the CSI had chosen for himself as an ID, the head forensic never rang him, if there was a new case that needed his investigating, he normally received the phone calls from his partner, yet as Elison briefly explained the situation to him, Han Geng found out that Kangin had been unreachable.
Reaching the top of the staircase, the Chinese Detective flashed his badge to the two officers stood guard before ducking under the sectioning tape with a small tiring groan, mentally telling himself he was too old to be spending these many hours working, his internal ranting about his age soon disappearing as the pale, shaking form of his work partner staggered out of the crime scene room and lurched down the corridor towards him, Han Geng quickly moving forward as Kangin nearly collapsed against the cheap wooden rail around the middle of the wall.
“K-Kangin-ah?” Han Geng exclaimed wrapping his toned arms around Kangin's broad chest, face scrunching in confusion as trembling fingers curled around his waist, the sharp, stuttering breaths hot and constant against his neck as the younger Detective tried to reign in his bubbling emotions. “What's the matter?”
“I knew him.” was all Kangin managed to hiss in response before two of the surrounding officers moved in to pull him away from the senior member of the force, indicating for Han Geng to move through to see Elison in the back room, the odd flash of the Forensic camera and constantly underlying tones of muttered annotations filtering through to the Detective's ears.
“Elison?” Han Geng called as he stepped through into the other room, which on a short pan of his eyes, turned out to be a particularly run-down bathroom, the Chinese male trying not to pay too much heed to the almost sympathetic wince the Officer guarding just outside shot him as he made to move in, almost as if to warn him to be prepared for what he was going to see.
“Ah! Detective, there you are....I apologise once again for you being woken up so early, I hope you don't get ill from all this work.” Elison greeted, clicking the button on his voice recorder curled in his hand to prevent it from recording the conversation unnecessarily, the young forensic with the camera merely nodding their head from their current crouched position before getting back to work.
“It's alright Elison, what have we got?” Han Geng queried taking the pair of latex gloves gratefully from the CSI and pulling them on over his fingers, silently thanking his half asleep process of getting dressed over an hour ago, meaning he had forgotten to pick up his suit jacket.
“Young male...more then likely a prostitute from this brothel, roughly late teens? Early twenties? No-one else from the brothel as of yet has given any light on what happened...they seem reluctant to say anything since their pimp has disappeared for the night.” Elison started leading the Chinese male further into the bathroom, speaking slowly so Han Geng could keep up whilst still remain staring round at the cracked and almost chalking white plaster top half walls, his irises moving to peer almost horrified at the numerously stained grey tiles that covered the bottom half of the room behind the bath centre-piece splattered liberally with crimson, dripping blood, everything from the borders to the simple sink basin and mirrored medicine cabinet, off coloured and clearly almost as old as himself.
“Kangin-ah said he knew him. Do we have an ID?” Han Geng questioned finally turning his attention to the bathtub with something akin to disgust, sharp eyes taking in the scarlet flecked water lapping at the utmost edges of the bath, the taps having clearly just been turned off, still dripping, explaining where the mass of water down the corridor and stairs came from, the slender, tanned frame arched backwards over the back curve rim, neck bent at a grotesque angle, slashed open from one side of his nape to the other, arms lined down the sides of the bath giving the whole image an almost distorted regal sense.
“According to Kangin Hyung, He's called Lee Kiseop. He's a prostitute, has been for a few years now but was in danger from many people as he used to pass information on the big prostitute rings to Kangin Hyung back when he was in Vice and worked underground in the prostitution circles.” Elison answered, watching for a moment as Han Geng cautiously moved his way round the pool of blood hanging beneath his head across the tiled flooring to peer down at the defined, slightly blue features of the victim. “Not long after Kangin Hyung got transferred out of vice into homicide Kiseop-sshi disappeared and was never heard of again...the department just assumed he'd ran off, or the worst had happened...now..it has.”
“COD?” Han Geng enquired pointing down at the pale, gaping throat, in a silent question, frowning slightly as Elison shook his head in response and pointed beside him to the medicine cabinet. “The cabinet? Suicide? Pills? or...?”
“The angle of the slice across his neck is a completely wrong direction of origin for being self induced, the way it curls at the sides, and the way the depth of the wound alters over his Adam's apple shows that someone stood over him, and pulled his head back to slice his throat.” Elison explained, stepping across himself to trace the wound gently himself as he detailed what he had discovered so far. “However, we found some discrepancies in the blood patterns, there is one by the door, a slight splatter on the corner of the cabinet, as well as some fractures in the glass that mirror the markings on his forehead.”
“So...He was clearly planning to have a bath, hence why the water overflowed and alerted the others that something was amiss, and he was attacked in the doorway? Forced into the cabinet in a struggle? But...how did he end up in the bathtub?” Han Geng mused, turning slowly in a small semi-circle on his heel as he tried to picture what could have happened.
“From the shape of the blood pool beneath his head, it looks like someone slit his throat while he was still outside the bath, then they took the time to lift him and put him into the bath and snap his neck backwards meaning the falling blood would change direction and thus create a difference.” Elison replied, crouching beside the Detective as he spoke, pointing out the evidence once again. “They hit him over the head in the doorway, were maybe stood behind it...and forced him into the corner of the cabinet before slicing his throat, snapping his neck back and placing him specifically in a bath in such a regal position.”
“A message maybe? Why go to the trouble of placing him like that in the bath if he was just a dissatisfied customer?” Han Geng pondered, speaking more to himself then Elison as the other forensics called him over about something they'd found.
“You're right. Most dissatisfied customers who kill the poor kid who they just paid to sleep with them do so brutally and out of anger and pent emotion, this is clearly thought out.” At the sudden voice beside him, Han Geng started badly before turning to blink in shock at the pale, yet more controlled form of Kangin crouched beside him, eyes determinedly not staring at the dead body in the tub.
“You used to work vice?” Han Geng queried, swiftly changing the topic, smiling lightly as Kangin all but beamed at him in gratitude for the change of conversation.
“I did...but I got a transfer. I couldn't take hearing another thirteen year old telling me in detail about all the stuff they do to or for their clients purely so they could eat, buy clothes or get another drug fix. I was coming home and being physically sick, so for my own sanity I got the switch.” Kangin breathed in response, shuddering slightly at the memory before fixing Han Geng with an incredibly open, unnatural stare. “Seriously Geng...Don't go down-town if you can help it. The stuff some of those kids go through...You end up feeling so disgusted that no matter how often you shower you can't escape the filth of it all.”
However, some three hours later when Han Geng finally found himself pulling up to his front door once more, the Superintendent having declared that neither he or Kangin were in any kind of fit state to work and thus sent them home for the day to rest up and catch up on sleep and their health, the Chinese male found his chest tightening in almost terror as he spotted the latch on his front door had been busted open, the entranceway now hanging open and bared for all to see in the surrounding area, reminding him too much for comfort of the broken doorway to the murdered businessman who had killed Lee Taemin.
Pulling his gun swiftly from the holster at his belt, Han Geng slowly made his way up the front steps towards his front door, heart thumping madly against his ribcage at the almost too silent atmosphere surrounding him, ears straining as he tried to catch the tell tale squeak of his wood flooring or the soft, muffled puff of breath as the culprit waited in hiding to leap out and attack him. Pushing the door open fully with a sharp snap of his foot, Han Geng held his gun out at arms length, scanning the darkened hallway with his well trained eyes narrowed in annoyance before he gingerly stepped over the threshold and up into the main part of his house, not bothering to kick his shoes off first, deciding he might just need them should the situation arise, unable to prevent the small gasp of shock escaping him as he found his living room in utter disarray. The coffee table in the centre had been tipped on its side, the piles upon piles of papers regarding the missing children and the old cases for those deceased now lay scattered around the room, rippling slightly in the early morning breeze, everything had been thrown out of it's normal place as if the culprit had been searching for something specific amongst his belongings.
However, just as the Chinese male lowered his gun slightly, too caught up in the mass carnage that was now the main room of his house, Han Geng felt his body tense as he heard the distinct squeak of creaking wood flooring from behind him, barely able to turn to a side in an attempt to face the cause of the mess, before pain erupted through his skull as something thick and heavy collided with his temple, the bones creaking beneath the pain as blinding spots of shock covered his eyes, the Detective unable to prevent the small cry of agony escaping him as the next hit smashed into the base of his spine, sending him to floor to sprawl, coughing and groaning in pain amongst the mass of papers, not realising his head was bleeding until the first few droplets of red started to spread out across the mass of typed text. Rolling onto his back, Han Geng winced as he realised he'd dropped his gun on the fall, vision still swimming as the blood continued to stream down him, the very ends of his nerves on fire from the damage to his spine, causing his limbs to tremble, barely able to focus on the large figure looming over him, hood pulled low, large metallic baseball bat clutched tightly in his pale fingers, before The Chinese male's eyes widened in shock and helplessness as the weapon was raised once more with a large growl and swung down towards the top of his head.