➵ |II| Obsessed.
Hell.
That was the fierce word. The word that they had always seemed to use in a desperate attempt to try and threaten children if they were being way too bad, the word that was always seemingly used to send shivers down one's spine. The fiery demons whose barbed tails cooked and snapped, their whips sharp, their horns like mighty rocks thrusting from their heads, wings reaching far and wide to swallow the man who had dared to stand before them—with absolutely no feeling of any remorse whatsoever.
Hell was not at all just for ordinary sins alone. It was not for the parents who had lost their tempers in frustration whilst struggling under the endless stresses of their lives. It was not for the mentally ill or even those who were far too damaged to barely understand or even be able to properly differentiate between what was supposed to be right from wrong.
Hell was reserved for those people who knew that their actions were completely and utterly wrong, yet still continue to do them anyway, regardless of the severe consequences, mercilessly just enjoying the sheer pain and anguish of others—even taking away what was rightfully not theirs; like their lives. It was a shock for the elite bankers of the world to be lined up with the psychopaths, the sociopaths, the yanderes, though their victims were many times more numerous than the worst of the serial killers actually residing in this tragic world full of pure chaos and malice.
Hell was reserved for people like him.
And even for people like you.
But truly—you didn't seem to mind, as long as he was going to be there with you.
There are two kinds of joy in this forsaken world; one is soft and mellow, warming and even goes all the way over to the earth's core. It forms links between the body, mind and soul, helping to try and at least make the person feel at home in their own skin. It helps people to try and love more strongly, to feel connected and do what is right. The other is a kind of illicit high, more akin to overeating sugar, comes fast and brings an extremely dangerous kind of impulsiveness, and even a certain type of shallow indifference to others.
And this is exactly how killers are: completely hollow on the inside, even as they had warped beyond recognition. Legend says that their hearts had died in their chest cavities long ago, that they utterly putrefied and made a heavy slime about their lungs, as thick as underworld tar. That's how they become killers, and also perhaps the exact reason as to why. The witches of the north say that their emptiness is their madness, that they mercilessly continue to take lives over and over again, as if they may, or even want to possess the hearts and souls of each one of these innocent civilians, yet never really do either in all truthfulness.
Although, to be completely and utterly healed—it is said that someone pure has to love each of them, every single twisted, immoral and even errant part of themselves that they desperately endeavour to try and hide away from this cataclysmic world. That very special someone also has to reform their blackened heart as if it were like the finest of clay, then set it to beating with pure nature's essence. Our faith says that there is always a way back to the light, to real goodness, and we must always offer that olive branch of pure love for it to be truly, and irrevocably real.
So until they finally find such an omnipotent being to completely forgive all that they have done, to break the universal scales and set them free to begin anew, the killing goes on.
Well, not unless you became the one.
The one who completely changed him.
There was only one word to describe the undeniably handsome Jeon Jungkook. His alluring eyes were the type of brown that was like a sweet chocolate. The kind of chocolate that melts at even the slightest bit of heat from some love, or even happiness. But that chocolate can also grow hard from the cold harsh reality that is made highly apparent in this world filled with sheer despondence. His lips were full and pink and his nose; slender and rounded. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen.
He was an Adonis amongst all the other young men. One look, and both women and men had completely swooned over just the mere sight of him; no matter their sexual preferences. One word that passed from his luscious lips had made even the straightest of men flush fifty shades of red. He truly was an Adonis; the God of beauty and desire.
And you were in love.
Obsessed.
Enraptured.
You had literally thousands upon thousands of photos of him pasted on your bedroom wall; you even accumulated a list of all his victims that he had murdered over the years, all of them were females in their twenties; young, attractive and fairly slutty. You looked at his beguiling pictures every day, every night, every single passing second of the entire fucking hour. He was so damn perfect; despite all his faults. He didn't notice you, but why would he? You were a nobody. An outcast within society. You traced your finger across his paper cheek, and kissed his lips, as if it was a normal occurrence for you; which, in actuality, it was.
You loved him.
You loved him.
You loved him.
Absolutely everything about him.
It didn't matter to you that he was secretly a cold-blooded killer. Manipulative, conniving, pure evil. Jungkook was nothing more than just a strong visionary with a solid dream. He didn't care about what anyone had thought of him, as long as they had obeyed. But he was clever like that; twisted. He knew exactly how to get people on his side, even his own best friends.
Why? Because he was a catch. And maybe that's why you had fallen so damn hard for him ever since that one very fine day, the day that you had happily stood there, and tentatively watched him as he killed a pretty young woman. Some may say that he was wrong for killing an innocent young woman, especially in the brutal way that he did, but she was a slut. She truly did deserve it. And you also certainly got one hell of a kick out of it too, that's for sure.
Jungkook even gave sociopaths a bad name. Others had found it so damn easy to just willingly trust Jungkook. He had quite an easy going style after all, but it was this conniving persona of his that had actually made him very dangerous. He carefully hid his true self like a snake covered with leaves. There was absolutely no indication of any evil intent whatsoever, no hint of self deviant motives. Jungkook didn't really care about who got hurt in the process, because his passion was power. He never wasted even so much as a single minute on absolutely anyone who was not in a position that he truly coveted.
Now, as quite a famous and well-known young novelist, he had moved up in power. He rose through the ranks of even his own publishers, of all his competitors, and had almost immediately gotten a publishing deal straightaway without absolutely any question due to nothing other than his sheer talent and pure intelligence. Although, nobody had actually expected how evil Jungkook really was on the inside. A man who wrote such beautiful romance novels, a man who was so damn looked up to, how ever could they suspect such a fine being?
But you—you on the other hand were completely different, and not even just mentality wise either. You knew absolutely everything about him: where he lived, where he worked, and even where he went out to eat with his best friends sometimes.
But Jungkook was also very well aware of the fact that you knew exactly what he was doing at all times. He still didn't know who you were—in fact, he had never actually seen your face before; the two of you had only ever communicated through the exchange of simple letters.
Letters of admiration, of love. This was already the fifteenth letter that he had received from you as of thus far within the past year or so, and it may have been quite hard for him to even admit such a profound thing to absolutely anyone at all, well, other than himself of course, but every single time that your floral scented letters had finally came through his post; his heart always seemed to flutter in his chest.
And how would you have even known about this?
Well, that's because you had his house completely bugged; literally even decorating the entire place with secret cameras plastered around basically everywhere that you could possibly think of. You were constantly watching him through many different devices: computers, phones, laptops—whatever your crazy ass self could get your hands on.
Despite his sometimes slight bouts of being an absolute dickhead through the letters that he usually sent back to you in response; he truly found all of this to be absurdly phenomenal and highly intriguing. The fact that someone knew exactly what he was doing at all times, and even going to the extreme lengths of accepting, admiring and treasuring him...was strangely like some kind of thrill, an adventure almost, one that he was so damn excited to suddenly be a part of; regardless of what he could have potentially risked losing in the very end.
Why?
Because then—when he finally gets to find out who this anonymous stalker of his truly even is; the thrill of killing you would have been like absolute ecstasy. Something that he had never actually been able to feel before. It was going to be very damn exciting. You were exciting.
The psychotic stalker; completely and irrevocably head over heels in love with the heartless murderer? It was a Cinderella story just like no other: the perfect tragic fairytale. Maybe this was going to be the running theme of Jungkook's next novel. It was absolutely perfect!
But for now, he was just going to have to wait patiently for the time being. His life really was oh-so-fucking boring, especially as of this current moment in time nevertheless—everything that you had written to him in your recent letter was true. He was craving something more, something more than just killing every single goddamn desperate slut who had annoyingly always thrown themselves at him any fucking chance they got. Disgusting whores.
He needed something more.
And that something more was ultimately going to have to be you.
Jungkook exasperatedly sighed to himself as he furtively slumped in his position on the couch. He really was tired after an extremely long, hard day of working, talking, and even attempting to actually try and find a brand new victim to mercilessly kill in the process. But yet, he just wasn't at all satisfied with absolutely anyone that came his way. He seriously was just oh-so-fucking bored of his life, especially as of right now.
But then, he suddenly remembered something...
"Anonymous psycho bitch," he softly said out loud, catching you by complete and utter surprise in the process as you were simply just sitting there, watching him through your computer screen with snacks practically surrounding you like a protective barricade. This had never ever happened before. In fact, he had never actually acknowledged you in such a way before. This was...weird. Weirdly exciting. "I know you're probably watching me right now."
"I am," you quietly mumbled to yourself—despite being very well aware of the fact that Jungkook wouldn't have actually been able to hear you at all, although you could clearly hear him. If you wanted to, all you had to do was turn on the microphone and your voice would have been heard: loud and clear. Of course, that was also the exact same reason as to why you did decide to implant two way speakers after all. However, you weren't going to allow that to happen. At least, not just yet anyway.
"I've always known it! I'm not stupid babe, I've seen all of the 'hidden' cameras in my house. I have absolutely no idea when you even had the time to actually be able to do all of this, especially without me catching you at least once, but I really do appreciate the effort. Let's just say that as crap as you think I am at burying dead bodies, you're even worse at stalking me in my very own home." He laughed to himself; it was strangely warm and quite hearty as his eyes were now slowly on the verge of closing. "However, I think that you've now officially captured my undivided attention, and nobody has ever interested the Jeon Jungkook in the way that you have before."
That was the fierce word. The word that they had always seemed to use in a desperate attempt to try and threaten children if they were being way too bad, the word that was always seemingly used to send shivers down one's spine. The fiery demons whose barbed tails cooked and snapped, their whips sharp, their horns like mighty rocks thrusting from their heads, wings reaching far and wide to swallow the man who had dared to stand before them—with absolutely no feeling of any remorse whatsoever.
Hell was not at all just for ordinary sins alone. It was not for the parents who had lost their tempers in frustration whilst struggling under the endless stresses of their lives. It was not for the mentally ill or even those who were far too damaged to barely understand or even be able to properly differentiate between what was supposed to be right from wrong.
Hell was reserved for those people who knew that their actions were completely and utterly wrong, yet still continue to do them anyway, regardless of the severe consequences, mercilessly just enjoying the sheer pain and anguish of others—even taking away what was rightfully not theirs; like their lives. It was a shock for the elite bankers of the world to be lined up with the psychopaths, the sociopaths, the yanderes, though their victims were many times more numerous than the worst of the serial killers actually residing in this tragic world full of pure chaos and malice.
Hell was reserved for people like him.
And even for people like you.
But truly—you didn't seem to mind, as long as he was going to be there with you.
There are two kinds of joy in this forsaken world; one is soft and mellow, warming and even goes all the way over to the earth's core. It forms links between the body, mind and soul, helping to try and at least make the person feel at home in their own skin. It helps people to try and love more strongly, to feel connected and do what is right. The other is a kind of illicit high, more akin to overeating sugar, comes fast and brings an extremely dangerous kind of impulsiveness, and even a certain type of shallow indifference to others.
And this is exactly how killers are: completely hollow on the inside, even as they had warped beyond recognition. Legend says that their hearts had died in their chest cavities long ago, that they utterly putrefied and made a heavy slime about their lungs, as thick as underworld tar. That's how they become killers, and also perhaps the exact reason as to why. The witches of the north say that their emptiness is their madness, that they mercilessly continue to take lives over and over again, as if they may, or even want to possess the hearts and souls of each one of these innocent civilians, yet never really do either in all truthfulness.
Although, to be completely and utterly healed—it is said that someone pure has to love each of them, every single twisted, immoral and even errant part of themselves that they desperately endeavour to try and hide away from this cataclysmic world. That very special someone also has to reform their blackened heart as if it were like the finest of clay, then set it to beating with pure nature's essence. Our faith says that there is always a way back to the light, to real goodness, and we must always offer that olive branch of pure love for it to be truly, and irrevocably real.
So until they finally find such an omnipotent being to completely forgive all that they have done, to break the universal scales and set them free to begin anew, the killing goes on.
Well, not unless you became the one.
The one who completely changed him.
There was only one word to describe the undeniably handsome Jeon Jungkook. His alluring eyes were the type of brown that was like a sweet chocolate. The kind of chocolate that melts at even the slightest bit of heat from some love, or even happiness. But that chocolate can also grow hard from the cold harsh reality that is made highly apparent in this world filled with sheer despondence. His lips were full and pink and his nose; slender and rounded. A prominent jaw curved gracefully around and the strength of his neck showed in the twining cords of muscle that shaped his entire body; strong arms, bold thighs and calves, a firm chest and abdomen.
He was an Adonis amongst all the other young men. One look, and both women and men had completely swooned over just the mere sight of him; no matter their sexual preferences. One word that passed from his luscious lips had made even the straightest of men flush fifty shades of red. He truly was an Adonis; the God of beauty and desire.
And you were in love.
Obsessed.
Enraptured.
You had literally thousands upon thousands of photos of him pasted on your bedroom wall; you even accumulated a list of all his victims that he had murdered over the years, all of them were females in their twenties; young, attractive and fairly slutty. You looked at his beguiling pictures every day, every night, every single passing second of the entire fucking hour. He was so damn perfect; despite all his faults. He didn't notice you, but why would he? You were a nobody. An outcast within society. You traced your finger across his paper cheek, and kissed his lips, as if it was a normal occurrence for you; which, in actuality, it was.
You loved him.
You loved him.
You loved him.
Absolutely everything about him.
It didn't matter to you that he was secretly a cold-blooded killer. Manipulative, conniving, pure evil. Jungkook was nothing more than just a strong visionary with a solid dream. He didn't care about what anyone had thought of him, as long as they had obeyed. But he was clever like that; twisted. He knew exactly how to get people on his side, even his own best friends.
Why? Because he was a catch. And maybe that's why you had fallen so damn hard for him ever since that one very fine day, the day that you had happily stood there, and tentatively watched him as he killed a pretty young woman. Some may say that he was wrong for killing an innocent young woman, especially in the brutal way that he did, but she was a slut. She truly did deserve it. And you also certainly got one hell of a kick out of it too, that's for sure.
Jungkook even gave sociopaths a bad name. Others had found it so damn easy to just willingly trust Jungkook. He had quite an easy going style after all, but it was this conniving persona of his that had actually made him very dangerous. He carefully hid his true self like a snake covered with leaves. There was absolutely no indication of any evil intent whatsoever, no hint of self deviant motives. Jungkook didn't really care about who got hurt in the process, because his passion was power. He never wasted even so much as a single minute on absolutely anyone who was not in a position that he truly coveted.
Now, as quite a famous and well-known young novelist, he had moved up in power. He rose through the ranks of even his own publishers, of all his competitors, and had almost immediately gotten a publishing deal straightaway without absolutely any question due to nothing other than his sheer talent and pure intelligence. Although, nobody had actually expected how evil Jungkook really was on the inside. A man who wrote such beautiful romance novels, a man who was so damn looked up to, how ever could they suspect such a fine being?
But you—you on the other hand were completely different, and not even just mentality wise either. You knew absolutely everything about him: where he lived, where he worked, and even where he went out to eat with his best friends sometimes.
But Jungkook was also very well aware of the fact that you knew exactly what he was doing at all times. He still didn't know who you were—in fact, he had never actually seen your face before; the two of you had only ever communicated through the exchange of simple letters.
Letters of admiration, of love. This was already the fifteenth letter that he had received from you as of thus far within the past year or so, and it may have been quite hard for him to even admit such a profound thing to absolutely anyone at all, well, other than himself of course, but every single time that your floral scented letters had finally came through his post; his heart always seemed to flutter in his chest.
And how would you have even known about this?
Well, that's because you had his house completely bugged; literally even decorating the entire place with secret cameras plastered around basically everywhere that you could possibly think of. You were constantly watching him through many different devices: computers, phones, laptops—whatever your crazy ass self could get your hands on.
Despite his sometimes slight bouts of being an absolute dickhead through the letters that he usually sent back to you in response; he truly found all of this to be absurdly phenomenal and highly intriguing. The fact that someone knew exactly what he was doing at all times, and even going to the extreme lengths of accepting, admiring and treasuring him...was strangely like some kind of thrill, an adventure almost, one that he was so damn excited to suddenly be a part of; regardless of what he could have potentially risked losing in the very end.
Why?
Because then—when he finally gets to find out who this anonymous stalker of his truly even is; the thrill of killing you would have been like absolute ecstasy. Something that he had never actually been able to feel before. It was going to be very damn exciting. You were exciting.
The psychotic stalker; completely and irrevocably head over heels in love with the heartless murderer? It was a Cinderella story just like no other: the perfect tragic fairytale. Maybe this was going to be the running theme of Jungkook's next novel. It was absolutely perfect!
But for now, he was just going to have to wait patiently for the time being. His life really was oh-so-fucking boring, especially as of this current moment in time nevertheless—everything that you had written to him in your recent letter was true. He was craving something more, something more than just killing every single goddamn desperate slut who had annoyingly always thrown themselves at him any fucking chance they got. Disgusting whores.
He needed something more.
And that something more was ultimately going to have to be you.
Jungkook exasperatedly sighed to himself as he furtively slumped in his position on the couch. He really was tired after an extremely long, hard day of working, talking, and even attempting to actually try and find a brand new victim to mercilessly kill in the process. But yet, he just wasn't at all satisfied with absolutely anyone that came his way. He seriously was just oh-so-fucking bored of his life, especially as of right now.
But then, he suddenly remembered something...
"Anonymous psycho bitch," he softly said out loud, catching you by complete and utter surprise in the process as you were simply just sitting there, watching him through your computer screen with snacks practically surrounding you like a protective barricade. This had never ever happened before. In fact, he had never actually acknowledged you in such a way before. This was...weird. Weirdly exciting. "I know you're probably watching me right now."
"I am," you quietly mumbled to yourself—despite being very well aware of the fact that Jungkook wouldn't have actually been able to hear you at all, although you could clearly hear him. If you wanted to, all you had to do was turn on the microphone and your voice would have been heard: loud and clear. Of course, that was also the exact same reason as to why you did decide to implant two way speakers after all. However, you weren't going to allow that to happen. At least, not just yet anyway.
"I've always known it! I'm not stupid babe, I've seen all of the 'hidden' cameras in my house. I have absolutely no idea when you even had the time to actually be able to do all of this, especially without me catching you at least once, but I really do appreciate the effort. Let's just say that as crap as you think I am at burying dead bodies, you're even worse at stalking me in my very own home." He laughed to himself; it was strangely warm and quite hearty as his eyes were now slowly on the verge of closing. "However, I think that you've now officially captured my undivided attention, and nobody has ever interested the Jeon Jungkook in the way that you have before."
