Token

Chap 5: the chase

Blood stained his pale hands, knife glistening in its fatal red. It seeped down into the white bed sheets, coating it with it's deathly colour. She gargled and choked as her blood clogged her air ways. Her body writhed and twitched underneath the weight of Jungkook's looming body. Her eyes struggled to stay open, tears and her own blood stinging them every time she blinked.

"I've been a bad bunny haven't I? I just couldn't help myself, to excited to see how'd you look under me drowning in your own blood." Jungkook whispers seductively into her ear, making her quiver as pain control every crevice and fibre of her being.

A delicate chuckle lingers off his lips, admiring his work, watching adoring as she takes her last wavering breaths. His rough finger strokes her tear soaked cheeks, feeling her flinch under the subtle touch. Her dark eyes dilate and widen before turning dead all together. Her lips stop quivering, gargling sounds fade as her chest stops jittering.

He smiles down at her lifeless body, his own milky brown eyes circling with glee. He carefully gets himself off the bed, carelessly making himself to the bathroom he cleans off the knife and the blood which is staining his hands. After he is done scrubbing off any DNA and evidence from his body he is wiping down the sink ensuring it is spotless.

He's done this dance what felt like a hundred times, it almost came naturally to him now. He didn't even need to think, it now second nature. Once he's squeaky clean, no ounce of evidence or blood on his body he slips himself back into his tailored fitted suit.

He was calm, unnerving as if he hadn't just moments ago brutally murdered an innocent women. Slitting her throat before she could even have the chance to scream or take a breathe of air. He's so slick and sly when it came to the flick of his wrist. One single swipe is all it took, the precision so perfect it sliced right through her carotid artery.

She bled out within minutes, it was painstaking as every breath she inhaled agony to her dying body and brain. The last moments of her life spent looking up into the cold, lifeless eyes of her killer.

"Well it was nice meeting you..-Tracey Dawson from oh? England. Guess I know where I'm heading next." He with no remorse riffles through her belongings, finding the token he's after.

He plays with her passport in his hands, finding a giddy drum enveloping his senses. He couldn't help himself, collecting these precious tokens made him feel whole. Something in his subconscious yearning for the remembrance, the passports a blissful reminder of the souls taken by his hand.

He gently placed her passport in his small bag, collecting his other belongings he neatly piled them all inside. Giving Tracey a fleeting glance, he smiles at his beautiful work. She laid sprawled out in her lacy underwear, wrists tied to the head post's. Small droplets of blood still trickling down her open wound. A masterpiece if he'd ever seen one, beautiful in the eyes of the artist.

With not a single ounce of remorse or guilt he confidently walks out the door. No looking back as there was nothing left in that small hotel room for him. He's done what he came to do. Hunted down and killed his prey so no point dwelling on what has already been done.

✈️

Jimin rubs his aching eyes, jet lag setting in as he's been up for over twenty hours now. He's tired and exhausted but the day has barely begun in the thriving city of Toronto. The sun just peaking off the horizon, birds chirping in the early morning breeze. The taxi driver rambling on about how he's always wanted to visit London, dreamed of seeing Big Ben and the Buckingham Palace. Jimin pretended to listen, not to bothered on getting to invested in the conversation since he was to tired and jet lagged to do so.

His cheek rested against the cold glass of the window, admiring the vast city that passed him by in a blink of an eye. It was a beautiful, clean, bustling city and god knows what demons hid within. When the taxi pulls up to his hotel, he hands the driver some cash, telling him to keep the change which puts a bright smile on the ageing man's face. He slams the door shut, left on the kerb with his small luggage bag.

Making his way inside the modest hotel booked for him, which will be seen as his home for the next few days. The wheels of his suitcase skid along the marble tiling, shoes tapping creating a soft beat.

"Hi, I've got a room reserved under Park." He said to the young women behind the reception, sliding over his passport across the countertop.

She gently smiles at him, a simple greeting he is sure she gave to everyone.

"Perfect Mr Park, I see you've been booked for four days. Is there anything you need?" She hands back his passport once she's scanned and copied it.

Jimin holds in a laugh, the question leaving him thinking about what he really needed right now. And the things that came to mind were something this women could not help him with.

"No, there's nothing. Thank you." Jimin takes the keycard, dragging his suitcase along with hims, entering the elevator he pressed his level.

Unconsciously Jimin scanned the small elevator, eyeing up any cameras that may be perched in the ceiling. His eyes catch on to one sitting on the right, facing the majority of the space, though he did note there would be a blind spot just under it if anyone was knowledgeable enough to know. And he could only assume that the man in the story he is chasing must know this. Know the ins and outs of hotels, where the cameras are, where all the exits were, where they could slip out unseen and undetected.

Though he didn't know much about this Toronto case, whether there was any cctv footage or evidence left at the scene. But he guessed they mustn't have found anything otherwise it would be all over the news.

The doors click open when they make it to his level, it lead to a low lit hallway with numbered doors on either side. He scampers out, unable to help but curiously look around for those cameras that snuck around. One sat just at the beginning of the hallway, a few maybe only two or so followed but it was unlikely they caught everything Jimin thought.

Getting to his door, number 1997 he slots the electronic key in, seeing the lock flash green he tugs on the handle. The room is quaint but had a nice ambience to it which he quite liked. The walls were a velvety grey, the bed a soft baby blue with a old fashioned styled desk sat opposite. A large, flatscreen tv hung right above. Jimin dumped his bag by the small wall closet, immediately drawn to the bed as it looked soft and tempting. He almost collapsed on top of it, feeling the mattress bounce slightly under his weight. He truly is exhausted, long hall flights were never fun and he wasn't a fan of flying. But it came with the territory, being a journalist meant chasing the story wherever it may go.

He'd been to so many places, following stories that intrigued him or he knew would lead somewhere exciting and unexpected. And this would be one of his most important stories yet. A murder mystery in its finest, a killer who travels the world to find their prey. One of a kind if Jimin knew anything of serial killers, not many he knew crossed the line of delving into different countries and nations. Most serial killers liked killing in areas they knew, that were familiar to them. But this killer obviously didn't feel that way, didn't care whether he knew the city or not. This killer was different, intriguing to Jimin since he's been fascinated by the mind set of psychopaths and liked to think he was some what an expert.

And this killer was definitely unique, in a league of their own which both excited him and scared him. So he could only hope he'd get the chance to meet them, maybe get to know them, learn from them to see exactly what drove them, made them want to kill.

All he had to do was catch them first.

....
Why hello 👋 Been awhile huh??

Love you my honeybuns💕