❝The Blood Season has begun.❞
Where Kim Taehyung is set on a twisted path that will either end his life, or change it forever.
One thing that's certain - the inevitable destination is doom.
[Multifandom Gang AU]
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It felt like snapping out of a trance, somewhat, realising what I had done. I was over the boy with my right hand planted on the floor for support, and the left one curled around the helve of the cutter that was half inside his flesh, and I didn't even know how it ended up like that.
When it hit me like a punch to the gut, my body reacted as if it literally had. I was off the boy with a sudden jolt and on my rear, backing away, away from him, from the blade, from the blood, from what I'd done. Strange sounds escaped my throat, sounds of pain, of shock, of trepidation, of despair, all combined into one single utterance that kept rising up my chest and out of my mouth as I gaped with wide eyes at the murder I'd just committed.
I killed.
I, killed.
Killed.
Again.
I had blood on my hands.
My entire being was shaking as I watched the boy gasp for air, choking on his own blood, his eyes filled with the fear of death as he lived his last moments. I did that. I ended his life, ruined his friends' and parents'. Suffering, more and more suffering I caused. It was my fault, all my fault.
Helpless tears coursed down my cheeks uncontrollably when the boy went still.
—
"I'm impressed, he was bigger than you and armed," Changkyun remarked. "You've got an advantage, I guess. You're ambidextrous."
I was still trembling, and my gaze had never left the boy's corpse, even as Changkyun had hauled me up to my feet and directed me toward the structure on the roof that sheltered the internal staircase of the building. I was now sitting in the snow with my back against the wall next to the door that opened to the stairs. Above the door was a light bulb that was on, offering some light that barely illuminated the entirety of the rooftop.
"Stop looking at him, it's not as if he's your first. Or last." Changkyun sounded annoyed. "If you don't die next time, that is. But I'm having some hopes for you."
This man was a psycho. There was no other explanation of how he managed to talk about it in such an off-handed way.
"Take off your jacket and shirt," he said. "You need to change. I have a spare windbreaker on me right now, but get your own change of clothes next time. And your own tissues, too. Or maybe a handkerchief."
When I didn't move, Changkyun huffed and ripped open the zipper of my jacket. He was going to burn it, I supposed. It was bloody and torn. I didn't take my eyes off the boy I just killed as Changkyun pulled off my jacket, then my sweatshirt. The smarting pain on my torso resurfaced, and the tremors got worse because my upper body was now completely exposed to the freezing weather. A moment later, I felt a gentle dab on the wound, and that was what finally made me take my stare off the boy. I looked at Changkyun in surprise as he continued to lightly press his kerchief on the cut.
