g o t h

~

Saturday 7:56am

Those same eyes were staring at you with the same expression of hurt and guilt as you stood in front of him outside his shared apartment, this time however those eyes appeared darker. He looks as though he’s not slept a wink in those 3 years since you left him. It doesn’t take too long to realise why he looks so rough, the smell of alcohol jumps into your nostrils within a few seconds of him standing there in his oversized hoodie and sweats. He’s hungover, again.

Trying to ignore the pain in your heart, you keep professional. This is a case; this is real people getting killed. You can’t mix your own personal problems in with it.

“Is Jimin home? I need to talk to him about something, it’s urgent.” You say calmly, clearing your throat as you finally break away from those dark, dreary eyes of his. It feels as though there’s barbed wire tangling itself around your throat, only getting tighter and tighter the longer you look at him.

His eyes flickering down a little as though disappointed, he takes a few seconds before speaking; “N-no… he had to go t-to work early today… s-something to do w-with checking stock...”

Nodding at his words, you inhale and decide that this is enough awkwardness in one day, this was actually one of the first times you’ve seen him this year. He’s always tried to get back into your life after you broke up with him, always going to your favourite bars to try and find you, going to your friends’ houses and trying to find you or get an idea of where you are. He was obsessed. He did still love you after all, hell, you still love him even though you’d never admit it. He broke your heart and that’s that. You can’t forgive that, right?

“Oh… well, I suppose I’ll go to the butchers and see him there… I’ll see yo-“ you started as you took a step back, only to be interrupted by a large hand wrapping around your wrist.

“W-wait! Why don’t y-you come in for some c-coffee? Please?”

There it was, the same pleading eyes that looked at you as you walked away from him, begging you to stay by his side, begging you to forgive him. You know what would happen if you said yes, in fact, you’re scared of what would happen if you said yes. Saying yes to this is showing him that you’re caving, that you’re like him and haven’t moved on. It makes him think he still has a chance.

“S-sorry, Taehyung… you know I can’t.” you tug at his hand which is still wrapped around your wrist, surprisingly he lets it go with ease, his head dropping down making his hair over his eyes. It looks like it’s been a while since he’s had a haircut.

“I’ll see you late-“

“Do you m-miss me?”

Startled by the sudden question you feel your heart leap in your chest. Blinking a few times to process what he just asked. Do you still miss him?

You miss having him there smiling and supporting you, taking you out on dates and making you feel like a queen. You miss feeling like your life is leading somewhere great with him, living in a big house with some pets, maybe some kids too. You miss that. You miss the Taehyung you knew, not the cheating and lying one. Not the person he had become.

“N-no…” your own words come as a surprise to yourself like you’re finally admitting it to yourself or hearing it for the first time. If Taehyung didn’t look like a kicked puppy before, he definitely does now.

“O-oh… w-well i-… i-I still miss you… a-a lot…” he mumbles out, his head still hanging low, like a child finally admitting that they’ve done wrong.

“m-maybe we can just t-try again-“

“Goodbye, Taehyung.”

You knew exactly what he was going to say, and you couldn’t bear to hear it. You couldn’t hear it. Otherwise, you might have considered it, your weakness for him would show through the shield you’re trying to keep intact, hoping that it wouldn’t appear through the cracks.

There’s only one person that can see through the cracks of the shield you’re putting up; Namjoon. Your best friend. He knows that you still love him, still have a willingness to go reach out for him. Luckily, he stops you, you can’t be dumb and have your heart broken again. You have to be strong. You have to be.

Walking away without a second thought, you keep your next task fresh in your head; you’re going to find Jimin, you’re going to find Jimin.

No matter how hard it is, feeling Taehyung’s eyes boring into the back of your skull like a blow torch to ice, burning and melting away at the bone and knowing exactly what’s going on inside. He knows you still love him. Why can’t you just let him back in?

-

8:15am

You’re shivering in your polyester coat as you look up at the ‘Park’s Family Butchers’ sign in this dark and dreary Saturday morning. You’ve never liked going into a butcher, something about how cold and quiet they are, hearing the sound of cutting and hacking in the back of the shop as they tear apart some poor cow. Honestly, it’s like witnessing a murder every time you go into one. You almost have the instinct to arrest the poor butcher.

The sound of the bell chiming as you enter the deathly quiet shop doesn’t seem to alert anyone, maybe Taehyung was wrong when he said that Jimin was here right now, or even any of his family by the looks of things.

You don’t know Jimin too well personally, you knew him before Taehyung decided to move in with you since he used to live with Jimin seeing as they were best friends. You were relieved when you found out that Jimin took him back in after you kicked him out, you didn’t want to admit but you were worried about him being alone with nowhere to go.

You knew about Jimin working in a butcher since you found it unusual these days, usually, students have part-time jobs in retail or fast food, never in a butcher! However, it’s a family business so he didn’t really have a choice in that matter. Plus, being the only butcher in town; you’d be surprised by the amount of business his family gets from it.

Going up to the bell sitting in the middle of the counter, you ring it, going on the front of your foot to peer your head in the back, looking for any sign of movement.

“Hello? Anyone here?” You ask before ringing the bell again a few seconds later,

“We’re closed, come back in 45 minutes!” A voice comes from the back, seeming to be out of breath from whatever he’d just been doing.

“I’m Detective Y/l/n, I have a few questions regarding a case, can I please have a moment of your time?” you pressed, hoping to sound friendly, similar to people having a ‘customer service voice’, you have to act all nice and friendly in order to get what you want out of people.

The sound of metal against metal pierces your ears before heavy footsteps are heard coming towards the front of shop, making you swallow to mentally prepare yourself. In contrast, the bright and vibrant smile of no other than Park Jimin meets your eyes, an apron is tied around his torso covered in blood stains and splatter, some even on his neck and gloved hands which he is slowly removing and putting in a nearby bin.

“Y/n! I’ve not seen you in so long! Wow, have you changed your hair?” he inquires, coming over to where you’re standing and holding out his hand for you to shake, which you take.

“I suppose it’s grown since you last saw me… It has been a few years after all…” you smile softly at him, you always had a soft spot for him and you’re not sure why, maybe it’s because he was always so sweet and listened, or maybe it was just that smile of his that took away all your worries.

He smiles back, his eyes catching yours as they look at his blood-soaked apron, making his eyes light up.

“Oh! Sorry about that, it isn’t very appetising to customers if I come out looking like this, right? But I suppose that is the reality of this job… people just don’t like seeing the gory side of it, they just like it when their burgers are in a bun” he says with a gentle laugh, taking off his apron and placing it aside before putting his attention back onto you as you speak.

“Are you working here alone, Jimin?” you ask as your eyes peak behind him, there’s no sign of anyone else back there working on cutting up some fresh meat or even anyone else here at all.

He scratches the back of his head, looking back at his apron before answering; “They asked me to come in a little earlier to start, you see… my dad has a shoulder injury right now so he’s needing all the rest he can get, which leaves me having to do all the dirty work… I don’t mind since I get paid a little more for it!” he finishes with his award-winning smile, making the corners of your lips turn too.

“Ah, I see, well I hope your dad gets better…”

“Thank you… Although, I’m guessing you’re not here for a catch-up… you sounded like you needed some questions answered! I am a little curious as to why it’s involving me” he leans his elbows against the counter, looking up at you curiously.

“Ah yes, I’m working on a case at the moment, I can’t go into details about it as it’s confidential… but I need you to tell me this…”

You dig into your coat pocket and take out your phone, quickly unlocking it and getting to the holiday photo you saved to it,

“who’s the boy you’re with in this photo?”

He takes the phone in his pale hand, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes in the photo, obviously confused as to why you have it and why it has something to do with the case you’re working on.

“Man… I haven’t seen this photo before! He took so many photos that holiday, guess he forgot to send me that one…” he sits up a little, handing you back your phone before sighing, you can tell he’s contemplating even telling you who he is but he knows he has to,

“His name is Jeon Jungkook… I was in a few of his classes at University, he’s a photography student… the school thought it would be a good idea to send the art school kids all on a holiday together; sculpture, painters, photographers, potters and dancers, that’s why I went… he didn’t have many friends, in fact, he didn’t have any friends, that’s why I talked to him. He’s a nice guy! Really shy though, took him a while to open up to me! I haven’t seen him in a while though but… I can tell you where he lives if that helps?”

You nod, putting up the notes on your phone and typing the address that Jimin tells you before putting back in your coat.

“Thanks, Jimin… Really I can tell it was hard for you to tell me this but it’s for the best, lives are in danger because of this case and I just have to follow this lead…”

He nods, swallowing; “I understand, I just… I hope he’s not got himself into trouble or done anything bad… he’s just misunderstood and lonely, all he needs is a friend… and hey,” he stands up fully, looking at you seriously, “you can always talk to me you know, right? I knew we haven’t talked since… you know… but I miss our talks…” he says honestly, shocking you, you never realised Jimin actually enjoyed talking to you or anything like that.

“Oh wow… well… maybe after I’m done with this case, we can catch up with some coffee-“ you were about to suggest before being interrupted by the sound of your annoying repeating ringtone, making you sigh out in frustration, giving Jimin an apologetic look as you answer.

“Hell-“

“Miss y/l/n, it’s Officer Min, we’re going to need you to come here right away”

“Wait what? What’s happened?”

“I’ll text you the address, there’s been another one, Miss Y/l/n. Please get here urgently.”

With that Officer Min hangs up, leaving you standing in front of Jimin confused, making him mirror the same expression as you,

“y/n, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just have to go, thank you for your cooperation, I’ll be sure to come back if I need anything else!” you say as you quickly make your way out of the butchers and back into the dreary fog of the Saturday morning. You failed to notice how you were a little disappointed that your conversation with Jimin had to come to a close so early.

-

9:12am

You park your car outside of the address Officer Min sent to you after that call, the address leading you to a motel called ‘Luv Inn’ just beside the main road. The motel itself is what you would expect; illuminated with bright pink neon lights with all sorts of characters inhabited in it, mostly businessmen who hire sex workers to fulfill their needs while their wives are home.

However, tonight it was filled with police cars, ambulance vehicles, forensics vans and even news reporters and photographers at the other side of the police tape, all of them greedily trying to push their way to the front to get a decent shot. Where’s the humanity?

“Miss Y/l/n!”

You turn from your car as you hear a familiar voice shout your name from the motel, the fatigued figure of Officer Min making his way over to you, he looks like he’s about to collapse at any seconds, has this man slept at all in the last few days?

“What’s happened here?” you question, glancing behind his figure to where the forensics team is, making their way into one of the many rooms of the motel.

“I think it’s best if you saw yourself… follow me.” He motions for you to follow him which you oblige, your eyes wandering as you pass what appears to be the receptionist of the motel vomiting into a basin as a few paramedics comfort him. Just what were you about to witness as you walked in here?

As you make it outside the open door a sudden smell hits you like a wave; a metallic smell. Blood. Lots of it by the smell of it. The hairs on your arms and back of your neck stand up as you push into the room, now you can understand why that man was vomiting up his dinner. You were about to do the same.

A body laying almost perfectly on the bed, as though untouched, unbothered. A woman. Her hair, from what wasn’t covered in blood was perfectly curled as though hours of her time was spent perfecting it. Her lips stained red with lipstick, her eyelids coloured and shading with eyeshadow and eyeliner, blush and highlight on her cheeks. If it wasn’t from her own blood all over her body and splattered on her face, you’d assume she was sleeping. She was obviously dolled up for something tonight.

Her silk lingerie, what looked brand new and picked out for this occasion, was ripped from the stab wounds in her torso, stained and covered in red. Her hands and chest; red. Her legs; red. So much red.

“This guy thought he’d leave a message too…” Officer Min’s voice breaks you free from your trance, your eyes breaking to look at his pale profile, following his hollowed dark eyes towards the wall.

Your mouth parts as it runs dry, your insides dropping as you read what is written,

The letters ‘L.32’ are smeared on the motel’s cheap wallpaper with this woman’s blood.

‘L.32’… that’s the same thing that was signed on that letter addressed to me…

As if on cue, your ears finally take notice of something else in the room, as though they completely shut down due to the overwhelming realisation of this situation. There’s a song playing. From the corner of the room.

Your head turns towards it as your shaking legs automatically take action, moving towards the noise like a curious animal. It’s a song you recognise, a classical one. You used to take piano lessons yourself when you were younger, perhaps this was one of the many songs that were ingrained into you.

Your eyes finally take place of the shapes your seeing and realise it’s a record player. How odd, why would you play music on this instead of a radio or even your phone these days? How old is this motel? You think to yourself.

You can feel Officer Min’s eyes burning into the back of your head, obviously waiting to hear any thoughts of theories floating about in your head,

“Sick bastard… thought it would be nice to play some music while he was doing this, he was fucking enjoying it! The sooner we catch this son of a bitch, the sooner I’ll be able to sleep.” He finally says, obviously on the edge of some sort of mental break down as he rubs his tired eyes.

Without responding to Officer Min’s comment, you look at the album cover placed against the nightstand where the record player sat, placed there almost as if whoever this is wanted you to notice it.

You lean down and pick it up, moving your body so that the bouncing lights off the police car as well as the motel’s grim lighting can help you see exactly what you’re looking at.

The album cover looked very much like a painting, resembling the outlines of some old buildings next to some water, reflecting off of it. The painting reminds you of ones done in the 19th century, perhaps this is around the same time that this classical music came out. The words ‘Debussy: Clair De Lune and Other Piano Favourites’ is also written in the cover, confirming that this is a very peculiar choice of music, especially for someone these days. A record player and classical music? Whoever this is must think very highly of themselves…

You turn the record around, deciding to have a glance at the tracklist before you put it back down, just to be on the safe side, maybe you were just overthinking things when you thought that someone placed this here intentionally. Glancing over them with heavy eyes, you don’t see anything too significant, that is until your eyes go back to the main song playing continuously on loop: Clair De Lune.

Your eyes go so wide you’re sure that they would pop out of your eye sockets at any second, your vision wobbling at your heartbeat quickening and getting heavier, the words in front of you becoming just a blob of mush in front of you now.

The song that’s playing is Clair De Lune, L.32

L.32, L.32, L.32

The same thing that signed that letter, the same thing that is currently painted on this musty motel wall in front of you with a woman’s blood.

This wasn’t some code or a nickname whoever this gave themselves. No, no.

They were trying to tell you something.

7:28pm

“L.32’? What the fuck does that mean? Is this guy talking in code or something?” A frustrated and obviously anxious voice booms from beside me as he runs his hands over his pale face for the 10th time since he got into the lab, not that I was really listening at this point.

After seeing that letter on the ground of the night club’s freezer and having to open it with cold stiff hands, processing every word, process what was actually happening; You’ve been in a state of pure shock ever since. Apparently, it’s been almost 12 hours since you found the letter, for 12 hours you’ve been in this lab with forensics and other officers, but it all feels like 12 minutes at the most, your mind right now is in a dream-like state. You always see victims at crime scenes, ones who discovered or witnessed vile and outright evil acts that have been committed or even in TV shows, they’re sitting there like an empty shell of a human with a blanket wrapped around them just staring into nothing as though their whole entire being has been shut down within them. You never actually know how shock feels until you experience it yourself.

It’s trauma. Your body goes numb and suddenly everything around you is just in a state of blur, voices aren’t even reaching your ears, air isn’t reaching your lungs, your muscles tense up like they’ve turned to stone, unable to move from the ground you’re stood on, your brain is working at hyper speed trying to process and make sense of the events that have just occurred. That’s a shock. That’s what you’re having to deal with.

“I can’t say anything right now as we don’t have any results or answers back… we’re working as fast as we can on this, Officer.”

You’re very thankful for that voice, the deep and honey-rich voice that belongs to no other than your roommate and long-time best friend, Kim Namjoon. You both met back at University, you both having a keen interest in crime and forensics so you both instantly clicked. It all began with you being forced to work with him and a few other people on a group project, needless to say, you both bonded over how the other students weren’t helping with the project leading to endless nights of bitching. Oh, what a simple time that was.

You’re so happy and thankful to have him within this field with you working as a Forensic Scientist, he’s always been there from terrible boyfriends and break-ups to when you’re having a mental breakdown over a homicide case. He’s your rock and you couldn’t be more thankful for meeting the big tree of a man, plus he has a good taste in plants for your shared apartment so that’s always a plus.

“Hey, Y/n… you still with us?”

You’re quickly snapped out of your daydream when Namjoon waves his glove covered hand in front of your face, a small smile appearing on his lips, not in amusement but more in sympathy.

“I’m fine, Joon… Just a little… shocked, that’s all.” You say honestly if there’s anyone who can read you like a book it’s him so there’s no point in putting on a fake mask of being okay when you’re totally not.

“Maybe you should call it a day, y/n. You look really tired; a good night’s rest will do you some good,” He suggests, looking like he’s just witnessed a crying puppy in an alleyway as he looks down at you, your eyes must be revealing how drained you are to him as you look up at him,

“Plus, analysis on the paper, pen, and handwriting used on the letter will take a good day to come back with results, that and trying to pinpoint any clues or indications within the writing itself… you should use this time to rest, please.”

A hand comes in contact with your other shoulder, rubbing the numb skin a little as the body comes closer, making you break eye-contact with Namjoon to turn to face the person.

“He’s right, Miss y/l/n, you should call it a day… do you need me to give you a ride home?” Officer Min softly asks as he peers down at you, a look of sympathy on his face, mirroring Namjoon’s. It’s not often Officer Min changes his expression from his neutral ‘cold’ one, that’s another reason why he’s always picked to lead the homicide cases around the city, he’s got that threatening look to him which gets people to talk. You know he isn’t just a stone cold officer, you’ve noticed the little things he does to show he actually cares; getting you coffee when you’ve got a long night, making sure you eat and get home safely, making sure you’re not cold or not too warm. It’s the little things that you appreciate.

You shake your head, too drained from all of this to even bring yourself to say no, all you can let out is; “I need a walk, don’t worry…” before pushing yourself away from both of the men, grabbing your jacket and putting it over your vulnerable and stiff body, the weight of the jacket feels like it’s increased as though someone’s put boulders into your pockets, or maybe it’s your body that’s grown weak.

“be careful, Miss y/l/n, give me a call if you need anything…” Officer Min says, sympathy laced throughout his words before the man next to him speaks up,

“There are some leftovers in the fridge, heat them up then call it a night, you always forget to eat…” Namjoon states more than he suggests, he’s always looking out for you especially during big cases like this, although all of those cases seem pretty little now.

With a nod and a forced smile, you make your way to exit the building, just trying to keep whatever Namjoon has left in the fridge for you in mind rather than the nauseating letter that’s sat in that very lab.

-

8:00pm

The cold piercing air brushes against your exhausted and discoloured skin as you make your way down the damp pavement, the streetlights being your only source of sight as well as some car’s headlights which would pass now and then. It’s weird, you thought, how your mind isn’t bursting at the seams with possibilities and questions into the events that occurred tonight but rather it’s quiet. Not a single thought or idea is running its way through your mind and developing into worries and ‘what if’s, instead you’re just enjoying the silence of the world around you. The silence of the street. The silence in your head.

As if your body was being controlled by someone else, you’re stopped dead in your tracks, right in front of a pathway coming off of the pavement, only lit by a single orange street light in the middle of it. You head slowly turning as your eyes scan the concrete of the ground trying to figure out why your body had the sudden urge to stop as you made your way home.

Your eyes widen as realisation dawns on you as to where this other path leads to; The Stigma Nightclub. You should’ve guessed since the faint noise of the club’s bass travels through the air to where you’re standing, cold in the middle of a dimly lit pavement.

The murder all seems different now, it isn’t just something you can detach yourself from and solve through an outsider’s perspective, this time you’re entangled in this mess. This involves you now, that what makes this murder so much different. You were on this person’s mind as he was slaughtering this poor boy, you were on this person’s mind when he stained his fingers with the person’s blood and smeared it on the cold brick wall of the club. You.

Without any thought, you’re moving in the direction of the bass and laughter, seems like Mr. Jung hasn’t decided to keep the club closed for even a few days after the murder happened. Not that you’re surprised in the slightest, he is money hungry after all and he doesn’t hide it. All you have to do is take one look at what he’s wearing and you’ll know that he’s proud of his bank account. Always the latest designer watches, rings, personally designed suits and shoes, his outfits alone are easily over a million dollars. 

Your eyes burn at the sight of the vibrant pink neon sign at the club’s entrance piercing through the darkness of the night. It’s pretty packed outside already with girl’s shivering in their tight and short bodycon dresses and men who are obviously trying to look impressive and appealing to whoever they can get their hands on. They’re all waiting like caged animals behind a red rope waiting for the club to open at 9pm.

Just shows how popular this club really is, even with murder right outside its doorstep there’s still people coming here waiting to fill their stomachs with alcohol. You can’t blame them really I mean, you used to be one of them.

You move before you catch the stern eyes of one of the bouncers, who seem to be occupied by an already very drunk and touchy girl trying to get in early, heading to the side of the club which is still covered in police tape and markings of where the boy’s body was. From the looks of things, the crime scene cleaners have already come since all is left of the murder is the faint red stains on the concrete of the ground and the brick wall.

You duck under the police tape with shaky legs, your wide eyes focused on the brick wall of the club, the faint stain of the embedded message still slightly visible.

‘My Darling..’ you mumble to yourself, your stiff fingers moving out to touch the cold wall like a puppet being controlled by some string, your brain congested with the question of who the hell would write this message specifically for you? And why? What did they want from You?

A bright flash of white light had you snap out of your trance, your glossed over eyes rapidly blinking in order to get your eyes back in focus as you turn to the direction of the sound of movement.

A figure. You can’t identify who it is as you squint, the person seems to have their hood up and… is that a camera?

Whoever this seems not to have noticed you yet, you are pretty far back in the alley since you were looking at the writing, plus this person clearly is focused on something else rather than you.

Maybe they’re forensics? Weird, I thought Officer Min’s team was finished here, especially since everything’s been cleaned up... You thought, staying as still as you can so you can try and take in as much of this person’s appearance before getting noticed, luckily the sound of people’s laughter and shouting from the front of the club are drowning out the noise of your rapid breathing from fright.

They’re lean... tall... maybe 5’9”? 5’10”? Pale from what I can see from their hands around the camera lens... looks male from their build…

The bright flash of light illuminates the alleyway, giving me a millisecond of the appearance of the stranger. Obviously, this boy appears to have noticed me too by the way his brown doe-like eyes widened as his shutter went off. He’s wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood up, the peak of his dark brown fringe coming out from underneath, pale glowing skin.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Trying to sound as stern and intimidating as I can, I take a few steps towards the boy who is obviously in a panicked state by the way his shoulders are tensed up and his fingers tighten around the camera.

“What are you doing at a crime scene, you know I could have you arr- hey!”

Before I could even reach him or finish my sentence, he makes a run for it, his head quickly ducking underneath the tape as he sprints over the wet pavement, as far away from the club as he can. My natural instinct is to sprint after him, my own fitness level only allowing me to run so fast. This boy is obviously quite fit if he can this fast! Must be an athlete or something! Your thighs and calves are already on fire and you’re not even going at half the speed he is.

“Stop running! Hey!”

Your loud and strained shout, obviously not going to the gym for a while has worn you out easily, must have startled him as the next thing you hear is a smash of what sounds like glass, his camera.

Quickly scrambling to pick it up, leaving pieces of his shattered camera on the wet pavement as he makes a run for it again before he’s out of sight, jumping over a nearby fence into god knows where, probably some poor family’s garden.

With painful breaths you slowly make your way to where he dropped his camera, looking down to see broken glass and some plastic. Deserves him right for creeping on a crime scene.

‘Shit…’

As you’re about to walk away, pissed now that you have to call Officer Min and tell him exactly what just happened in detail, something else on the ground catches your eye where the smashed camera parts are laying. Squatting down, you pick it up from the murky ground, rubbing off some of the dirt with your thumb. It’s a little small black piece of plastic in the square-like shape, but you know exactly what it is; an SD card. A proud smirk takes over your dried-out lips. Let’s go see what other photos you take, creep.

-

8:45pm

Your exhausted body finally relaxes as you flop onto the soft comfort of your sofa, not bothering to take off your jacket or your shoes, it’s too much effort to do right now. The last thing you needed tonight was to do a 100-meter dash in the most uncomfortable shoes in the world but who knows what this job will throw at you, all you know is: you’re in dire need of a massage and some wine.

Finally dragging your deflated body off of the couch, you drag your feet into the kitchen, immediately going to the wine rack that you and Namjoon keep stocked up and grab one of the cheapest bottles of red wine. Grabbing a glass from the top shelf of your cupboard with a drawn-out groan and pouring yourself a well-deserved drink, not before grabbing the bottle and taking it back to the couch with you. You already know the whole bottle is going to be empty by the end of the night.

A loud moan escapes your lips as you take off your torturous shoes, if the neighbours had heard they’d think you were finally hooking up with someone. Truth is, after Taehyung you were never with anyone else, not even one-night stands sounded appealing to you. In your mind, if it wasn’t Taehyung then why bother? He was the one you wanted, why settle for anyone else?

Now you’re too busy to look for anyone else after your heart was broken, you didn’t see a point in trying to build a relationship again, truth is you never got over him. How could you? You had your whole future planned with him from your wedding, honeymoon, future house, future kids, and then for it all to be shattered by his hands and thrown away was just too much for you. How could you move on after something like that?

The piercing taste of the cheap wine hitting your taste buds takes you away from those thoughts, I can’t be thinking of that now!

Suddenly remember what you picked up tonight, you reach into your jacket pocket and take out the still dirty SD card. Wiping away some of the dirt from the small golden plates, you grab my laptop and carefully put in into the correct slot, your chipped fingernails drumming on the surface of the laptop in the anxiety of what I might find.

If this guy is weird enough to take photos of a crime scene, who knows what else I’ll find on this thing…maybe I should call Officer Min first…

Glancing at your phone on the table, you shake your head, he’ll probably be passed out or too busy with Forensics right now to bother with this. Plus, that means calling him and you’re really not in the mood for any more human interaction for the night, today has been too rough.

Finally, your laptop is able to read the damaged SD card, multiple files appearing on your screen. This guy must use this SD card a lot seeing as there are multiple folders on here. Looking at his first glance you’d think that this was a normal person’s memory card, files such as ‘Holiday 2017’, ‘Photography’ and ‘Other’ are all carefully organised.

Moving your cursor, you click on the file titled ‘Photography’ and before you know it your screen is filled with various photos; photos of anything you could imagine. Plants, buildings, the sea, architecture, clouds, people, this is everything you would see in the portfolio of a professional photographer. If you didn’t think this guy was such a creep you’d be impressed with his work, doesn’t look like he’s going to be taking any more professional photos like these for a while considering he smashed his lens running.

Going back, you try to find some of the photos he took tonight, he couldn’t have deleted them while he was running. Biting the skin of your lip as you move onto the ‘Other’ folder, the grey blank squares slowly loading to reveal what you were looking for.

These aren’t just photos of this crime scene; these are photos from so many crimes scenes. You click on one, a small gasp coming from you as you take it in in all its glory. He took these while police were there, while forensics themselves were taking photos! How did he even manage to sneak there without anyone noticing?

Skipping to the next photo, your heart is frozen stiff when your brain finally picks apart what it is that’s staring at you from the screen. It’s you. This photo must have been from like last year from what you can tell from the length of your hair, plus you don’t wear that jacket anymore.

In the photo you’re facing a body on the floor, you remember; It was a robbery gone wrong. Poor guy was making his way home from work from a car insurance company in town, some young boys decided it was a good idea to try and rob the guy, needless to say, they got what they wanted. Your eyebrows are furrowed as you look as though mid-conversation, probably with Officer Min who is usually always by your side, even back then.

The photo is just focused on you, this guy is obviously using his professional photography skills in order to capture you. You try to steady your breathing, trying not to jump to the conclusion that you’re already thinking; is this man linked with the murder?

With a sudden harsh press to the ‘esc’ button, the photo is quickly removed from your screen, your shaking fingers coming up to rub your tired eyes. As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

As you’re about to pull the SD card out of its slot in your laptop, a sick feeling washing over your exhausted body unable to look at anymore, sudden realisation dawn over you. There’s still another folder on this memory card. It’s innocently titled ‘Holiday 2017’.

Swallowing, your fingers find the touchpad and move the cursor over to the file, closing your eyes as you double click, god knows what this sick fuck will have hidden in her- huh?

It’s… it’s literally holiday photos.

Photos of the beach, family members, group photos, drinks and food, lots of happy smiles. Thank god, no more photos of dead bodies or even you. You sigh out in relief, grabbing your wine glass again as you skim through all the photos, seeing if anyone matches the physic of the boy you saw tonight.

Downing the remainder of your glass, you sigh out, looks like this guy was taking more photos of his friends and family rather than have him in them. Well, it’s a start I guess, I could always take these to Officer Min and look through some databases for any identification of any of these people. Hopefully, some are family members, that would just be grand.

Pausing at one photo you notice that it isn’t older people anymore, it appears to be young men, look around the age of the boy tonight. Leaning in towards the screen, you scan the bodies before you reach one face in particular, your intoxicated brain taking a moment to identify who the person in this photo is.

‘No… it can’t be…’

Moving your fingers on the touchpad, you zoom in on the man’s face, a sharp intake in breath fills your lungs. It’s him.

It’s Jimin. Taehyung’s roommate. Smiling on the beach with some other guys you don’t recognise.

Oh, what a night this is.

-

Friday 7:38am

After seeing that image of Jimin on that man’s SD card, you already knew exactly what you were doing today. Let’s just hope Jimin still lives in the same place as before and hopefully he isn’t home. The last thing you need is to be faced to face with the man that broke your heart again.

“Baby? You awake?” a deep and husky voice said into your ear, the feeling of a hand rubbing the side of your thigh also pulls you out of your slumber.

“Mmm, well now I am…” you smile sleepily, keeping your eyes closed as you move your hand on top of his, your fingertips brushing over the smooth skin of his hand.

“You know… Jimin’s out right now, he got called into work early…” the feeling of wet pecks being placed against your neck has a giggle escape from your lips, your eyes fluttering open slightly.

“And? What are you suggesting, Tae?” you innocently ask, feeling his hand turn to intertwine his long slender fingers with yours, his leg managing to make its way in-between yours.

“Well… It involves a lot of this…” he says as he places more and more kisses all over your neck, his teeth grazing against the skin of your neck.

“This…” his hand is now released from your fingers, slowly making its way up your stomach just below your breasts, a teasing laugh escaping his lips as he runs his fingers between the valley of your breasts till it reaches under your chin, where he tilts your head towards his.

“and maybe just some of this…” he grins, leaning in to place his plump lips onto yours, both of you smiling into the kiss as my moves his body on top of yours.

You stop your car with a loud sigh, just staring at your steering wheel before slowly tearing it away to look at the apartment complex in front of you. Oh, how it’s been so long since you’ve been here. You practically lived here with Taehyung when you were dating, you both were inseparable. The last time you were here was when your heart was broken.

Shaking that memory from your head, it’s too early to be thinking back to that, you think. This is for business, for work, there are people’s lives in danger here you shouldn’t let your past come in the way of this. Who knows what will happen if you don’t catch this creepy bastard.

The clicking of your shoes echoes through the hallway of the apartment, making your way up the cold concrete stairs up to the 3rd floor, you know now never to take the lift, the amount of times you got stuck in that metal death trap is unbelievable! Although you and Taehyung always made most of your time alone in there.

The familiar sight of the discoloured wooden door with the number ‘36’ displayed in silver is now in front of you, a breathy laugh comes from your lips; looks like they never did get round to painting the door again, no matter how many times you told them.

You look at your watch, it’s almost 8am, Jimin doesn’t usually leave to work in his family’s butchers till 9am which means he should be up. That is if he still even works there. Let’s just hope Taehyung is passed out or moved out, you pray.

Your knuckles bang against the wood before stepping back, your jaw clenching with nerves as you hear shuffling from behind the door, keeping your head down as you hear the fumbling of keys and the lock turning.

You bring your head up when the door is swiftly brought open, the lump in your throat now getting even bigger when you see who’s answered the door.

“Y-y/n? Baby?”

“I don’t think you need me to tell you that this was a pretty violent murder.” Stated the man standing directly above the body, Kim Seokjin, the head Forensic Pathologist on this case and pretty much every case that’s pretty serious. Seokjin is good at what he does, hell, he’s amazing at what he does. The bad thing is that even he knows he’s one of the best in the business, meaning you can imagine the size of this guy’s ego.

“It’s pretty difficult to say what killed him first… the head trauma from his skull getting bashed against the wall or the fact he pretty much stabbed every internal organ in this area…” he says as he gestures to the lower abdominal area before leaning against the metal table and looking over the body, his eyes dragging along the flesh.

“From the looks of things, he was knocked out cold when his head was thrown against the wall but was still alive when he was being stabbed and of course died from blood loss.” He states before a scoff came from the other side of the room.

“Even I could’ve told you that! And here I was under the impression you were the best in the business, could you please tell us something we don’t know, Seokjin?” Came Officer Min’s obviously tired and annoyed voice as he leans against the cold wall of the morgue, arms crossed and looking very unimpressed at Seokjin.

An annoyed sigh escapes Seokjin’s lips, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows; “It’s Dr. Kim to you, Min. And until we analyse the fluids and other areas of the body, we will not be able to determine a cause of death. I suggest you take your head out of your ass and actually do something other than gawk at me doing my work, I know I’m handsome but even I need to draw the line, especially in a work environment.” His offended look was now replaced with a smirk, knowing how to push Officer Min’s buttons.

Officer Min, also known as Yoongi, and I have come to Seokjin’s Pathologist team for lots of different cases, be it a murder, drink driving, drug overdose, you name it. You would think after years and years of being in the same cold and eerie room together they would come to like or even just respect each other. Apparently, Seokjin’s cockiness and overall personality are just too much for Yoongi, not that he is any better, he always wishes to push his buttons just to piss him off, it’s a constant cycle every time we’re here.

You yourself would never consider yourself a friend of Seokjin’s, would you ever go to a bar with him? Go out for lunch? No never, you just respect his work and consider him an acquaintance, that’s all. Even if you were to ask him out for lunch, he has this reputation of keeping himself to himself, I don’t think anyone in his team even knows anything personal about him other than his name and age. No one knows his family if he’s got a boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife, kids. He’s an unbreakable wall that no one has seemed to crack.  

A low growl comes from Yoongi’s throat as he pushes himself off of the wall, turning his head towards you,

“Come on Miss Y/l/n, I know where we can go, let Seokj- oh I’m sorry Dr Kim, my apologies your majesty,” he pauses to bow mockingly, earning a scoff from the other man, “We should go back to the nightclub, I sent some of my team and forensics there early this morning to see what they can find, might as well join them and see if we can help.”

You nod, pulling your tired body off of the table, turning your head to Seokjin before leaving, “Give us a call if you find anything important, alright?”

-

8:12am

The smell of booze, sweat and regret is exactly the first thing that hits you when first stepping foot into Stigma Nightclub. Instead of sweaty and drunk bodies grinding against each other to some terrible EDM music, the place was filled with people in white plastic suits and police uniforms. You remember a time where you used to be in here, back when you were a university student and had so much of life ahead of you. This was actually when you were first introduced to him. Kim Taehyung. The man that broke your heart.

You remember it so clearly; you were out dancing and having fun with friends when he came up to you at the bar. He was just so charming, handsome and made you smile, filled you up with compliments and even asked you out, being the innocent student who wanted to experience things said yes. Around 3 or 4 dates later he asked you to be his girlfriend, you were on cloud nine, little did you know he was going to break your heart into a million pieces.

“We should go and talk to some of the staff here last night, follow me.”

Yoongi’s voice brought you out of your little daze, the image of Taehyungsmiling in front of you is replaced with emptiness, the memory fading. Finally bringing function to your legs, you follow his lead, before you know it you’re heading towards a girl around the age of 24-26 with the staff’s uniform on, sitting at one of the many tables. She’s looking down at her hands, fidgeting. She’s obviously very distressed. I don’t blame her, she’s surrounded by officer’s that are all trying to get every little detail out of her.

“-I just c-can’t believe he’s r-really gone…” you heard her whimper as you approach the table, taking out your badge from your coat and showing the officer’s surrounding her, signaling them to leave. You slowly kneel down in front of her, trying to make her feel a bit more at ease.

“Hi there, I’m detective constable y/n y/l/n, this is Head Officer Min. We’d like to ask you about what happened here las-“ you stated before she suddenly interrupted.

“My friend got murdered! T-that’s what! I-I’ve told the other o-officers everything I know, w-which is nothing! Just l-leave me alone!” she exclaimed, more red hot tears streaming down her already stained face.

Sighing you get back up on your feet and look over at Officer Min, who is about to say something else to her,

“Give her some space… is the owner anywhere to be seen?” You asked, knowing well who it is you’re asking to see.

You have heard of the infamous owner of this nightclub, Jung Hoseok. In fact, everyone has heard of him. One of the richest men in the country. He owns around 5 nightclubs all over the country, all of them being packed every single night, sending him easy millions in the bank every week. Not only that but he has been connected to a lot of drugs and weapon smuggling in and out of this country, but no charges were made against his name due to the lack of evidence. This man has so many connections that he could buy himself out of jail, that’s why he’s so well known. He’s created a whole empire for himself making him untouchable. At least he likes to think he is.

A lot of my team have tried their best at arresting him, trying to catch him red-handed when talking to these criminals, organising the drug and weapons smuggling but he knows what he’s doing. He’s careful and never leaves any loose ends for us to find. He’s good at what he does, the bastard.

“Why, you going to try and get some information out of him? I wish you all the luck in the world, Miss Y/l/n.” He says before nodding towards the set of stairs, just over by the glamorous VIP section of the club with chandeliers and expensive furniture, “His office should be up those stairs somewhere, you go and talk to him and I’ll go and talk to security, see what we can find on the CCTV footage from last night.”

You nod, you can’t help but let your gaze linger on the bar as you turn to make your way towards the stairs, the sound of his laughter echoing through your brain, the sound of his compliments, his jokes, him.

“You’re a university student? Wow, you must be pretty smart then!” He smiles, taking a sip of his drink of beer, his big and sparkling eyes never leaving yours, “Beautiful and smart, surely that’s illegal!”

You laugh, probably a little too loud now that the vodka from your 4th vodka and coke finally seems to have kicked in.

“Oh no no, you flatter me too much! You’re really trying to charm me, aren’t you?” you lean in a little closer, feeling a little bolder now as you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“That depends, is it working?” He winks back at you, sending blood rushing to your cheeks, sure you’ve met guys at bars who have tried to flirt with you, but this seems so different, he’s different.

“Get me another drink and you’ll find out…”

Before you know it you’re standing in front of a fogged glass door, the metallic plaque with the name ‘Jung Hoseok CEO’ engraved into it. A loud beaming voice coming from within the room, sounding to be annoyed with whoever else is in there. Without thinking twice I knock against the glass, the room inside falling silent until you hear the words “come in” from a low voice.

When you enter the office, there are already a few police officers in there, no doubt giving Mr. Jung a grilling already, trying to suck every piece of information out of him. However, the police officers are not the first thing you notice, despite being right next to me as you enter the room. It’s the dark eyes of Jung Hoseok. Boring into you from the other side of his desk. His hair is a mess, his shirt unbuttoned and tie loose, his eyes heavy and luring you in before you finally compose yourself.

“I am detective constable Y/n Y/ln, do you mind if I have a few minutes with you, Mr. Jung?” you state, trying to be as calm and collected as possible despite the horrible aura that’s coming from the man in front of you.

“…Alright, sweetheart, as long as it’s just you and me. Don’t want these hounds lurking in on our private conversation, now do we?” His sudden cold and rude exterior changing as he gives you a wide smile, a cold shiver going down your spine as you nod, watching as the two officers make their way out of the room, the sound of the door closing is a lot louder than it should have been, maybe that was just your nerves heightening your senses.

“Sit down, sweetheart, I don’t bite you know…” The smirk never leaving his face as he gestures to the leather chair in front of his desk. You nod, making your way to the chair, feeling a little self-conscious with his eyes following your every movement as you lower your body down.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here, Mr. Jung… Let’s not beat around the bush and get right into things,” you decided to stay true to your professionalism, despite the sheer vulnerability you feel at the moment right in front of him, feeling like prey standing right in front of the predator. Your statement seems to amuse him so as he changes his body language, the smirk continuing to stretch on his face as he slumps more against the back of his chair, easing me a little, “where were you around 3am this morning?”

He stays silent for a moment, as though picking out his words carefully. That or he was just utterly fascinated by your face as his eyes have not left it since you’ve entered the room.

“I was at the other side of town, in one of my other night clubs… My more popular ones…’Cypher’ you may have heard of it, you seem like the type of lady that likes to go out drinking now and then…” he slowly lets out a piece at a time, leaning in towards his desk so that his elbows are now resting against the expensive wood. You know what he’s trying to do, he’s toying with you, trying to distract you and fall for his charms. He’s a manipulator, someone with his power becomes really good at that sort of thing, too bad this isn’t the first time you’ve dealt with this.

“What were you doing at ‘Cypher’ at that time, Mr. Jung?” You were met with a scoff, not an irritated one but one more amused, you knew he was enjoying this more than he should be.

He leans in more, his smirk now turning into a grin, stretching across his face. The creepiest thing about it is that it doesn’t seem to meet his eyes.

“Do you really want to know, sweetheart? What would you do if I said I was in my own private booth with a pretty girl from the bar, doing things to her under the table that had her squealing in pleasure?” he says slowly, his eyes burning into yours to see your reaction.

You’ll admit, that did send heat to your cheeks since you weren’t prepared for it and you’re sure he noticed too by the small chuckle that escaped his lips. This is what he wants to do to you, to distract you from what you’re trying to do, from what you’re trying to find out.

“What do you know about the victim, Mr. Jung? I believe he worked here as a part-time bartender, is that correct?” you ignore his tries at distracting you, at clouding your brain with images and thoughts in order to stop you from getting any information out of him. Not today, Hoseok.

His smirk falters a little, bringing his elbows off of the table and leaning back against the chair again. His eyes finally breaking away from yours as though he realises I’m not going to give in to his little comments.

“I know OF him… He was a student or something, right? Don’t know much about the kid… He didn’t get involved in anyone’s business or try to make conversation, just made your drink and that was it. He did his job. Kept himself to himself… why someone would want to mutilate him like that is beyond me, maybe he got on the wrong side of someone that night…” he says while looking down at his desk as his finger slowly taps against it as though he’s… anxious?

His last comment made you pause, his choice of words: ‘maybe he got on the wrong side of someone that night’ as well as this being the first time he broke eye contact with you, this is no coincidence, he knows more.

“What do you mean by that, M-“ before you can pry any more, the door of his office swings open, revealing Officer Min who is looking between the both of us, breathing heavily as though he ran up the stairs.

“Miss Y/l/n, you might want to see this…”

With furrowed eyebrows, you push yourself up off the leather chair, about to leave but turns to Hoseok before you do,

“I would like to continue this conversation later, Mr. Jung,” you state while staring at him in the eyes, his eyes are no longer flirty and sparking, they’re just cold. Burning. Scared. You’re going to get whatever he’s hiding out of him if it’s the last thing you do.

You follow Officer Min down the stairs of the nightclub, somehow, you can still feel Mr. Jung’s eyes burning into your skull like corrosive acid is burning through to your brain. You should be scared of him, that’s how he has everyone in this city wrapped around his finger, that’s why he’s walking free instead of rotting in jail. Subconsciously you turn my head to the top of the staircase as your legs reach the bottom, only to see Mr. Jung’s slender figure standing there, watching, lurking, his full playful and sexy exterior completely gone. His eyes stalking your every movement as you walk through to the security room with Officer Min, like a hawk watching a rabbit through the fields. He knows something about this case and he doesn’t like the fact that you’re willing to find out every little detail.

8:49am

Entering the security room of the club you are hit with the lights of many televisions all displaying a different part of the nightclub, illuminating the room. You glance around them all, seeing if there is any camera which would show the alleyway, which would reveal the actual murder being committed. Unfortunately, it seems no camera shows this. Does this mean the killer knew about the placement of the cameras or was it just sheer luck?

“Play camera 23 at 3:17am this morning.”

With a few clicks of the keyboard, one of the screens on the left starts to play, the camera being displayed inside the club, showing the bar and the many drunk people sitting there, flirting, touching, giggling, just enjoying themselves. The nightclub closes at around 4am, this you know because of your past experiences in this place, that’s mostly why it was so loved; it didn’t close ‘early’. The staff behind the bar are also shown doing their job, taking orders and mixing drinks, your eyes instantly catching onto the victim who’s currently taking a beer out of the mini-fridge and opening it.

You keep your eyes trained on him, that is until your eyes follow him handing the beer to someone at the bar, the ring shining on the man’s finger instantly making your chest tighten. Your breathing heavy and painful. That’s your ring. You bought that for him. Kim Taehyung.

“Happy anniversary, babe!” You giggled, throwing your arms over his shoulders from behind, placing little kisses on the side of his cheek, earning you a laugh in return, “I got you a little gift…” you move on of your hands in front of him, revealing a small white box with a little red plastic bow on top of it.

“Awww! You shouldn’t have! Mostly because I didn’t get you anything…” he laughs as you slap his shoulder, “I’m kidding I’m kidding; how could I forget to get the love of my life a 2-year anniversary present? I’m dumb but I’m not that dumb!” he pulls away from you, quickly running over to his dresser to grab what he got for you, which is in a thin, black rectangle box, quickly shoving it into your hand.

“Open yours first!” he said, he looked like what could only be described as a big excited puppy as he watched you take off the delicate lace ribbon, biting his lip in anticipation as you open it. Anxiety building up in his chest as you process what you’re looking at inside the box.

“Well? Do you like it? I-I knew you liked the idea of little locket necklaces! I just d-didn’t know if it was the right one… do you hate it? God, you do, don’t you? It’s okay I can get you ano-“ he’s quickly interrupted from his panic when you lean in to give him a kiss, pulling away with a loving smile on your face.

“I love it, Tae this is just… wow…It’s beautiful!” you slowly let out before you carefully open up the locket, revealing a picture of the both of you on your first date, all shy and nervous at the park together, the picture being one of your personal favourites.

“Tae… this is perfect, really thank you” you quickly lean back in to hug him, your eyes tearing up with how thoughtful it was before pulling away with a laugh, “great, now my present looks terrible!”

He laughs, shaking his head, “you could give me anything and I would love it, I love you so much…” he smiles lovingly at you before looking down at the small box you gave him and opening it finally, his lips parting when he sees what’s inside.

The ring inside was silver, having an engraving of a chain-like pattern at the sides, the inside having both yours and his initials.

“I know you said you really wanted another ring plus I know you like these designs, plus this one is personal now since it has our initials on it together…” you say softly, the anxiety of his reaction feels like it’s going to kill you.

Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being pushed back onto his bed behind you, making you yelp out in surprise as he covers your face in kisses.

“it’s perfect! What did I ever do to deserve someone like you?” He pulls away with a smile, looking down at your lips, “I’ll keep this on till the day I die…” he says before leaning in, kissing you like it’s the last time he ever will.

That ring. The same one you were staring at right now on the man’s finger through CCTV footage. The same hands you held tight every day, the same hands that touched you, caressed you. The same arms that used to hug you every day and night. The same neck you used to bury your face in. The same face you used to wake up to every morning and think everything was going to be alright. Him.

“Miss Y/l/n, are you alright?” came Officer Min’s voice from beside you, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder in comfort, “you’re looking quite pale…”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine…” you lied, your brain feels like it’s spinning at 100 miles per hour trying to process what you’re looking at, who you’re looking at.

You watch him carefully as he sips his beer, his head pressed against the palm of his other hand, looking rather bored or fed up as he sits alone at the bar. You wonder; why is he even there, alone… Sure you haven’t seen him in a few years after he broke your heart but the last place you’d expect to find him was back here, back where it all started. Why wasn’t he running away with her.

“Watch, the bartender goes into the back room, another worker confirmed he was going back there to stock up on the drinks in the mini fridge at the bar but… he doesn’t come back.” Officer Min stated, his eyes glancing over at you in both concern and to see what you thought of this.

This was not the time to think about the past, I have to do my job.

“Have you checked the storage? Are the forensics team in there? See if there’s any signs of struggle or maybe an extra set of footprints…” you finally say, noting how Officer Min seems to glance at the other security, they all have an unreadable look on their face. It’s not a good one.

“I was about to send the team in but… I think it’s best you see it for yourself, y/n.” His voice is laced with something that you can’t quite point out, concern? Sadness? Fear? All you know is it must be serious, especially since he’s now calling you by your first name, something he never does.

Before you head down, curious and scared at what you might find down there, you glance back at the screen to take one last look at him but you are met with an empty chair, he’s gone.

-

You are led down to the storage room at the back of the bar, everything looking completely normal as you enter so far; barrels of liquor, wooden pallets filled with food and snacks, extra chairs and tables, cleaning equipment. Nothing seems to be out of place so far, that is until you meet Officer Min’s eyes, gesturing for you to look in the freezer part of the storage room, his eyes glancing away after he does so. This was strange. It’s so out with his character to look so vulnerable at this moment in time that you really don’t want to even think about what waits for you beyond this freezer door.

You put your hand on the large, painfully cold metal handle and turn it, using all of your strength to pull it open, the burning of your muscles now met with the sharp coldness of the freezer. Putting one foot in, eyes traveling around the dark freezer, not even knowing what it is your looking for exactly. The freezer itself is pretty dark, only a few dim lights in there to illuminate all of the pieces of meat and drinks kept in here, just making this whole situation even eerier than before.

As you take another few steps into the freezer, the sound of something crinkle under your right shoe, your movements instantly stopping, brain running wild at what it would be, before you can come up with anything your eyes are plummeting down, meeting what appears to be a piece of paper.

The first instinct was relief as it was a probably receipt or something that one of the staff accidentally dropped when counting the stock, but that moment of relief was instantly met with sheer terror as your eyes finally adjusted to the dim lighting of the freezer, making what was laying on the ground visible to you now.

It was a letter. Not only that but it was addressed to someone. Your heart thumping in your ribcage as you slowly bend your knees, swallowing what felt like razorblades as you shakily picked it up.

You were right, it was addressed to someone.

Tonight, you expected the usual case of theft or maybe a drug overdose, these kinds of things usually happen at clubs like these, it’s nothing surprising since it happens so often, as cruel as that sounds. People wanting to try a new class A drug for the first time to ‘live on the wild side’ and then end up in a body bag before 1am, it’s horrific but it’s nothing new to you, having 5 years’ experience with this job.

However, nothing could have prepared you for the scene that would slowly unfold in front of you. Just as the front of your long black jacket grazed against the plastic yellow ‘DO NOT CROSS’ tape, you saw it. The first thing you saw was the victim’s face. Bruised, bloodied and unrecognisable. Blood oozing out of his open mouth traveling down his neck and onto his stained and ripped apart button-up shirt, now stained red in colour. The next thing you saw was the stab wounds, so many of them close together that it just resembled one big mess of flesh, blood, and guts at the victim’s abdomen.

“Fucking hell…” came a low gruff voice from behind me, footsteps stopping beside me, no doubt staring at the scene in as much disgust and horror as I was myself.

“This isn’t something you see every day, right Miss y/l/n?”

At the sound of your name, you finally snap your eyes away from the hellish scene, bringing them up to meet Officer Min, his dark brown eyes showing the exhaustion he already feels after looking at this, the draining thought of having something big on our hands, many sleepless nights ahead of us.

Not even attempting to give him an answer, your brain still trying to unravel the sight you just witnessed, you turn back to what’s in front of you. You can already feel the sight of this man’s cold and mutilated body boring itself into your dreams for the rest of your life. Boy, will you need therapy after this.

Another flash coming from the camera reveals something weird on the dark brick wall of the nightclub in which you didn’t notice before, your eyebrows furrowing as you lean against the tape a little, waiting for another flash as the photographer took another photo of the body.

Your eyes blinking as cold shivers were sent down your spine, your brain quickly registered what was painted, what was smeared, what was dripped onto the grooves of the bricks and cement.

‘M Y  D A R L I N G…’