Paper Masks | ᴊᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ

05 :: pastel red

It's the same dark room you are now so familiar with that you can't ever forget. The water that drips from the leaking sewage stains the walls and brings about an odour that makes you gag.

Your fiancé and partner, Park Jimin, is pressed against your back as you scan around the room for any possible gunfire. You can hear his calm and quick breathing that sets you to comfort. That always calms you down - his soft angelic humming and his steady heartbeat.

And then it's a commotion. You hear a child screaming and crying out for his mother from inside, you rush, leaving Jimin's side, running in the direction of the cries.

The sound of bullet hitting is loud and the groan that follows is louder. You turn back and see Jimin shot on his chest, blood pulsating out rapidly and you turn back, taking a step forward but he prompts you to save the child.

And you do, but you don't see that.

All you see is Jimin lying in a pool of body, smiling at you affectionately. All you hear is the clinking of the gun and shot of the bullet, diving through the air at your lover.

The shot over and over again. And again. And again. Till that's all you hear and you're gasping awake, clutching on the hotel bedsheets and crying because you could have prevented Jimin from being shot. You could have.

You look at the clock by the bed and you are genuinely impressed that you managed to sleep for two hours. This is a lot better than most nights. You rub your eyes and decide to get up and research.

Perhaps this serial killer has a rough background with an abusive family too.

You realise it's past seven when the sunlight peeps through the thin curtains lighting the entire hotel room up. You stand up and open the windows, letting the fresh air fill the room, the smell of greenery appealing to you. Your phone rings and you look at the caller.

District Chief Cooper is calling...

You groan and answer, sitting at the table back again and scrolling through your research drafts. There is a static voice in the background and a cough, followed by a clearing of the throat.

"Special Agent," he calls out for you.

"Sir."

"I hope everything's going well," he asks. "You know that you're in a tight spot after Miami Debuncle."

"Yes, sir," you close your eyes, trying to forget the memory that haunts you as it should.

"Don't screw this up, Special Agent. Diligence is what you should have and the FBI will look into your performance."

"Yes, sir," your voice is firm, ensuring that not a single emotion spills through with your words.

"That'll be all then," he says. "Have a good day, Special Agent."

"You too, sir." He hangs up. You could go back to normalcy by not messing this case up and that's your only agenda.

Fifteen minutes later, you are at the precinct. Officers prancing around with case files and Detectives swarming the place, it is busy for a regular Saturday Morning. Jungkook meets you by the door and he waves at you.

"Had a good sleep last night?"

"I guess." Did two hours count as good sleep? After all, this is the longest you've slept in a long time. "I have the basic profile up." You look around at the chaotic precinct as you walk in and you sigh.

"Do you want my help? This can get a bit," he chuckles, "messy."

"I've got this," you push your hair behind and clap your hands together, coughing before yelling, "Hey! Eyes front! Here!"