#dark dom

Oh Sangwoo.

The one behind all those serial murders.

The public didn't know yet; the cops were running around like headless chickens trying to find him.

But you knew.

You knew everything. About his mother, about his fist murder, about every single one that had followed ever since. Even about Yoon Bum, you knew.

And you hated him for it.

Yet here he was, tied to a metal bed frame and slowly regaining his consciousness as you watched his profile.

Sangwoo lifted his head slowly, eyes blinking open as his brows furrowed in confusion. The moment he realised he wasn't anywhere he knew, his eyes widened, and he whipped his head around, trying to figure out just where he was. And that's when his eyes fell on you.

You hadn't bothered to cover your face. For one, you knew Sangwoo would never manage to get past the measures you'd taken to keep him locked in your basement. For two, you wanted him to know who was going to ruin him.

"[Name]," Sangwoo said, and you saw fear in his eyes at being at the other side of this situation. He was supposed to be the one sitting in that chair, smirking; not the other way around. "What the fuck?"

You chuckled. "Surprised, are we?"

You got up from the chair, walked over closer to him and sat down at the edge of the bed. Sangwoo tried to scuttle away, to shift back, but the chains you had put around his legs and wrists would only let him get so far.

"Let's see..." You tilted your head at him. "How does it feel to be at the receiving end of this situation? Does it excite you? Does it help you understand your victims better? Or..."

You looked down at his sweaty hands, and then at his pale face. "Does it scare you?"

Sangwoo grit his teeth. He knew what you were thinking. That's what he thought every time he dealt with a victim.

Ah, he's trying to struggle away. How fun.

But he wasn't gonna let you have that satisfaction.

"How did I get here?" Sangwoo's voice was barely stable.

"Hmm," You debated internally whether or not to be like those typical movie villains that explain their plans before failing horribly to kill the hero. And then you realised, no one's a hero here. You were both deranged.

And so you said, "D'you remember me handing you that bottle of water after your match?"

You watched as Sangwoo remembered, and his eyes grew dark with hatred, but his expression remained casual. "So that's how I blacked out... Not bad."

You chuckled at his attempt to look aloof. "Oh, please, I learned from the best."

The implication of your words hit Sangwoo in the face. He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

You got up from the bed, walking over to the only barred window in the room. "It's funny, really, how the cops could never figure out it was you when you left behind all the evidence you did."

You didn't look back at him, but even in the silence you could hear the cogs of his brain turning. Should he admit to it? Or should he act like he didn't know what you were talking about?

Fuck it, if you had blackmail material on him, he had some on you, too.

"So you knew." Was the only thing he said.

"Of course I did." You turned around now, slightly excited to see his reaction. "I know everything, Sangwoo. From the body in your walls to the boy locked in your basement. Or should I say... Corpse?"

Sangwoo's face paled further, and finally, finally, a fraction of the fear he felt showed on his face.

Silence.

Then, "You killed Yoon Bum."

You laughed. "Oh, did you get attached to him?"

Sangwoo shook his head, a lie. He was attached to that boy. That's why he made him murder that bitch, so Yoon Bum could never leave him without the fear of cops. Yoon Bum was the only one he had.

He didn't love Bum, fuck no. He needed him to stay alive.

But now, he was gone, and standing in front of Sangwoo was you instead, just as insane as him, if not more.

He didn't say anything after that, and you left him to his thoughts.

The next day, you put your hands on him for the first time.

You'd thought about it many times, fuck, dreamt about it, even. And now he was here, in your hands and all yours to ruin.

When you first stripped him of his clothes, he tried to struggle. It was amusing how scared he was to have the sort of things done to him that he'd been doing to people for years now. Maybe it was because he could tell what thoughts were running through your brain, having had them himself.

You freed Sangwoo's legs, keeping his hands bound still. The next few hours were hell for Sangwoo, and heaven for you.

He gave up on struggling half-way through, using his bound wrists to hide his face instead, as if he could somehow forget you existed if he couldn't see you. His chest was heaving with each breath. As you fucked into him nice and fast, he bit down on his lips, hard, not willing to allow a single sound escape his lips to give you satisfaction.

The humiliation, the shame, the hatred he felt in those hours was so, so much more intense than anything else Sangwoo had ever experienced in his life. He wanted to kill himself, wanted to cut off each inch of his skin that you had touched. Anything, anything, if only it meant this would stop, if it meant you would stop. If it meant that he would wake up in his house again, with Bum locked up in his basement and the freedom to move his arms.

But you wouldn't let him struggle away, wouldn't even let him look away. You slapped his hands away when he tried to cover his face, and roughly grabbed his jaw to make him look at you.

"The second you break eye contact, Sangwoo," You muttered, your hips bludgeoning into his. "I won't hesitate to use these chains to choke you out of your miserable life, do you understand?"

And as much as Sangwoo wanted to die already, as much as he wanted this to end, he gulped and obeyed, lips and lashes trembling with fear.

There was no doubt that you'd do it. No doubt that you'd kill him if you got sick of him.