Mankind | BTS Sci-Fi AU

13.

THE AIR WAS THICK WITH A COPPER SMELL as Yoongi dragged you somewhere. His fingers were around your collar, and you unsuccessfully tried to kick yourself away. You could hear him mumble a few things here and there, but you were in too much panic. Breathe, you thought. Calm down.

Panicking was never good.

"What do you want?" You croaked, clawing at his hands, trying to vigorously shove them away from you, so you could back up. You heard him sneer and slow his pace. "I don't want anything, but some important information." Now he was dragging you with exaggerated motions, making sure your hands were scraped and bloody. You felt disgusted, and couldn't seem to get the pain out of your lower region.

"Didn't enjoy it, did you?" You were dropped like a sack of flour. "Well, I very much did."

"I didn't do anything to you," you glared at him.

"You didn't," he said, matter-of-factly. "But your brother did, and that's the same thing. I can't tell you two apart." You scooted backwards. "Well," your mind scrambled for words, trying to fathom its thoughts into constellations. "What did he do?"

"Hit and run incident," he said blithely. You were past all the pain he was inflicting on you, and he could tell because you weren't wincing or flinching. "Trying to ignore it?" He smiled coldly. "What your brother did to me, well, he killed himself over it, didn't he?" You screwed your eyes shut, holding back a scream.

"He killed himself out of guilt," you said, your voice shaky.

"And I didn't get to take my revenge," Yoongi said. "So I looked for anyone else related, and you were the closest thing." Your fists clenched. "It wasn't easy, you know," he said. "You joined the FBI and essentially went off the grids. And I was thankful to join the mafia and rise through the rankings." There was a blade at your throat that you hadn't notice. "So in a way, I have you to thank for my success."

"No problem," you spit out.

"But we would've never found ourselves like this if it hadn't been for your brother, would we now?," he said, and nicked your throat with the tip of the knife. A trickle of blood streamed down. "So I'll have to thank your dead brother for that." You heard him flick the light on, and then finally opened your eyes, hesitantly.

You instantly regretted it.

"Why?!" You screamed at Yoongi, who stepped away. You were looking at the dead but preserved body of your brother. Everything about him made you miss him - the thirty year old man he would be next month. "I've been planning this for a very long time," he laughed, each sound a mini blizzard that froze you.

"What?"

Behind your brother, your vision finally cleared. And then you screamed again in more shock than horror. There were pictures of you pinned on a bulletin board, linked to times and other things that you couldn't see clearly. Some of them were taken from when you were inside the house. You looked at Yoongi. 

"Yes," he said. "You see it now, don't you?"

"But," you started. "I never did anything to you. It was all my brother. You brought me here because I reminded you of him? And you wanted to hurt him, but since he was dead, your only option was me?"

"Do you really think that's the reason I brought you here?" He said, and your gaze fixed on your brother's dead, glassy eyes. "Yes?" You breathed out. "Isn't that what you said before?" He sighed, clearly exasperated, but there was amusement to it. "You're terribly oblivious," he said.

"Why do you think I took advantage of you when you were too drunk? Took all those pictures of you? Joined a mafia just to find you? Dedicated each of my kills to you?" Your eyes widened, and you looked up at him. He chuckled, fingers brushing the flat of the bloody knife. "You're not just someone I want to hurt," he smirked. "I am a sadist, but that's not all I am."

Your BAU training kicked in instinctively. "You learned to misinterpret hate and pain as love," you heard yourself say, emptily. "You were probably brought up in an abusive household, dad was most likely absent. When you ran away from them, you were exposed to even more brutality in the mafia. And all of that hate... it changed you into a, a monster."

He pursed his lips, and you knew you had hit a sensitive topic. Keep pushing the right buttons.

"All those 'kills' you dedicated to me," you paused for a moment, voice trembling. "I had seen all those cases. They all had the black rose. And you killed them because they reminded you of me. You thought they might've been me, and when they weren't, you killed them out of rage. The pictures you took of me, some of those aren't even me. And the mafia... well, you were sick of not being able to find me, so you joined it to be sure."

He smiled, almost proudly. "That's correct, you sure do know me well."

"You're sick," you shook your head and almost looked at him with disgust, but knew that most of this was not his fault - it was his upbringing. "Please," you begged him. "I can get you help. Just please let me go."

He paused for a moment, and then put the knife in his pocket. "Go ahead," He said, at last. "If you must."

You stood up slowly, knees buckling from the effort. And carefully, you staggered to the door. You saw that it was unlocked - perhaps he meant to scare you and not kill you. As soon as you had turned the doorknob, he was there, kicking you aside. You landed brutally on your back, and he walked to you with a triumph smile on his face.

"If you really thought I was going to let you go," he hovered over your fallen body. "You thought wrong."

Strangely, you weren't surprised or sad. A strange sort of calmness and acceptance fell over you, though you knew you were going to try and get out of here. I have to stay here with him for the rest of my life, you thought. If I don't try and accept it now, I'll never be happy again.

"This is your home now," he said, his voice quietening down as he saw your trembling self. "And we can live together until we die."