Violence Gore Profanity Mature Themes Disturbing Scenes/Descriptions
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I knew he was out there. Waiting to scare me. To creep up on me. To catch me.
So I had two choices. Die to the blood sucker, or die to my pitiful self.
So, how did you get to this point? How did I end up in such an fvcked up situation? Well, here's the scope.
《:》
I gave my handsome boyfriend, Park Jimin a quick peck on the lips. As response his mouth curled into a big smile, he's eyes being only vaguely visible. "I have to go now. Alright baby?" I ruffled his soft hair, making him pout.
He nodded, smile faltering. "I wish you didn't have to go to work." Then there was the pouty lip.
"Sorry, Chim." I kissed his head.
"I love you, Chulsoo." He buried his head into my neck.
I hugged him, a smile on my face. "I love you, too." It was true. I loved my life with him. It was pure glee and cheer to be able to live with the love of your life.
But sometimes, happiness doesn't last. In fact, most of the time, something happens to screw it all up. I prayed everyday that that wouldn't happen.
《:》
After work at the convenience store I started walking home, glad it was still kinda light out, though it could definitely be brighter.
I continued walking until I saw... Namjoon?! I smiled and ran up to him. "Joonie!" I yelled as I picked him up from behind. I did a little twirl then put him down.
"Excuse me." A rough voice spoke.
That wasn't Joonie.
His voice was a considerable amount higher pitched, and now that I think about it, his hair wasn't close to Namjoon's either.
I bowed. "I'm sorry.." Embarrassment was scribbled across my face in big fat streaks of permanent marker. Hopefully all would be forgiven and forgotten.
"Apology not accepted." He spoke coldly.
Now, I was usually a top, but this man just leaked the aura of dominance, making me feel weak and obediant, almost. "W-what do you mean?" I whined out.
"Apology not accepted." He grabbed my wrist and dragged me down an alleyway, ignoring the state's of other people and my persistent protests against the basically kidnapping.
"The hell." I groaned, taking my arm back from the weirdo. "What's your problem?"
"You." He said in an aggressive tone. This gave you time to observe him. He was average height with eyes that looked almost phony, weird. Pale was the color and that was his skin. Cold was his voice. And dread was something he wore with pride. A veil of fear surrounded him. And he knew it.
