the unholy -got7

THE UNHOLY

1978

the house spilled with blood, dripping, sinking, drowning in it. grass ran red with it, the trees surrounding the house stained by the splatter. yet no-one was there to see.

and no-one was there to hear the screams. the middle of the woods were safe like that, safe for the man wielding a knife, not for the women sobbing beneath him.

a wild hen party dare.
"let's go into the woods, it'll be a laugh,"

there was no laughter.
but sobs, sobs and cries and screams... they were in abundance.

the man held the knife close to his chest, like it was his child, as he smiled widely down at his victims- happiness eminated from him as they whimpered at his feet, it was the first time he had felt powerful in a long time. it had been much too long. but their tears were hot on their faces, the cuts littering their bodies creating a river of blood, and he was starting to get impatient.

the night was still young. he was sure there were others in the woods that night.
or perhaps there wouldn't be.

either way the girls were annoying him, with their desperate pleas and shaking hands. his own fingers shook with the need to slash their bodies.
he pulled the girl with the purple sash closer to him and he smiled and he cut and he ripped at her hair and at her skin.

screams.
from her, her thigh coated in blood.
from her friends, watching her flop to the floor- dead

and a laugh.
from him, as his first victim became weak in his hands, god he loved the power.

carefully, he reached over to his kitchen table and picked up two palm leaves, expertly twisting them together. a cross. his eyes reached to the sky as he placed the palm cross on the woman's dead body. the bride-to-be.

immediately, it became soaked in her scarlett blood and he scowled , swinging his eyes to the 3 other girls.

"sacrifices must be made." he whispered, leaning down to trace his knife across a blonde girl's neck, chuckling as she recoiled. the power he had over these girls was addictive, he wanted this to go on forever, and ever, and ever and...

in a swift move he cut her neck, even more blood flooding to the wooden floorboards of the house, soaking them through. a gutteral roar. 2 quick slashes. 4 dead bodies.

and too much blood, far too much blood, all over his house. in the floor, splattered across the wall. his face too, was wet with blood and the mangled bodies just wouldn't stop bleeding.

as he brought the knife up to his own neck, he couldn't help a laugh passing his lips. oh, how the adrenaline coarsed through his veins, how it made his hands shake and his heart pound. looking at the bodies only made him laugh harder, and harder and harder and-

one final slash and he was brought to his knees.
one final laugh to the heavens as he choked out, "forgive me.... f-fath-"

-----

"why do you think he did it?" jaebeom held his camera steadily as jinyoung addressed the woman stood in frame. the piece of equipment was heavy in his hands, and he shifted uncomfortably, trying to even out his weight as an ache spread through his left shoulder. jinyoung was staring at the woman intently, portable microphone in one hand and notpad full of scrawled notes and rushed mindmaps in the other. his hair was whipped up by the wind as he posed the question, his tone light but the words holding a certain weight that made the woman shiver slightly.