#imainge

An obsessive bad boy who you fell head over heels for had you dizzy. His name was Yancy and while he claimed to be from Ohio his accent through many people off. He has this passion for slushies, the easy life, musicals, and, of course, you. You were in love with him there was no doubt about that. 

Yancy would do anything for you. Anything. He was willing to fight for you, win for you, kill for you. You thought he was perfect for you until he tricked you into killing two people. You didn’t think at the beginning you would be in this position. Never in a million years did you think you would be trapped in your room with a killer who just wanted you and only you. 

-><-

Yancy couldn’t wrap it around his head why you had now locked yourself in your closet. He was only there to invite you to be his date to the pep rally at school. You messed up sure but he can forgive you, you messed up and he can see passed that. Maybe you were scared? Scared of what? Surely not him.

Yancy knocks on the closet door, tilting his head. “Open the door.” He commands, jigging the locked doorknob. His desperation for you was showing. You were the one good thing he had left in the world. The only person he had and he craved to be with you every moment of the day. 

You sit on the other side of the door, shaking in fear of the monster that you had managed to create. “No. I'll scream, my parents will call the police.” You insisted, pulling your knees to your chest. 

Yancy takes a step back from the door, looking around the room. “All is forgiven, baby! Come on, get dressed. Yous’s my date to the pep rally tonight.” He tosses aside a shirt that was in his hand to the side. 

Confusion hit you. “What? Why?” He chuckles. 

“Well, our classmates thought they were signing a petition. . .You better come out here and see what they really signed.” He smiles wide, looking at the door before his face got serious. “Yous chucked me out like I was trash. For that, yous should be dead.” The fear in you only grew. “But, but, but! Then it hit me like a flash, what if high school went away instead?”

Shock hit after that one. Yancy had a twisted smile as the plan unfolded in his head. This was how he was going to win you back, how he was going to get his happily ever after with you. He was just going to have to remove the middle man, or in this case, people.

Anger took over his features. “Those assholes are the key, theys’ keeping yous away from me. They’ve made yous blind, messed up yous’ mind. But I can set yous free!” Drunken in his own delirium this really was the only way. “Yous left me and I fell apart. I punched the wall and cried- BAMN! BAMN! BAMN!” 

Yancy punched the door until his knuckles started to bleed with the love he felt for you. His devotion of love, his dedication to you, even after you left him behind. It was just a small mistake, he repeated that over and over on his way here and now it was all that ran through his head. 

He walks away from the door, wiping the blood with his other hand. “Then I found yous changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside! And so I built a bomb. Tonight ours’ school is Vietnam! Let’s guarantee they never see their senior prom!” Yancy comes to a stop at your dresser, the grin on his face falling. 

Reaching up, he picked up a picture frame. It was a selfie that the two of you had taken together. You leaned against him as he held out the camera. It was almost like it was yesterday that he’d taken the picture. You were still his, you still are. You’re just as beautiful-and-or-handsome as before. 

His hand shakes a bit as he looks at the picture. “I was meant to be yous’! We were meant to be one! Don't give up on me now! Finish what we've begun! I was meant to be yous’!” Tears burned his eyes as he shakes a bit at the possibility of you not loving him back. 

That wasn’t right. You do love him. He was most definitely sure of it. You love him as much as he loves you. Maybe you were just afraid of him loving you. Yeah. That sounds about right. Yancy looks up at the door and his whole mood changes again. 

In a violent mood swing he tosses the frame away, letting it hit the wall before landing on the floor, breaking the glass. “So when the high school gym goes BOOM with everyone inside.. Pkhw! Pkhw! Pkhw!” He moves around dramatically, before reaching into his pocket. “In the rubble of their tomb. We'll plant this note explaining why they died!” He drew out the note from his pocket. 

We, the students of Westerburg High. Will die. Our burnt bodies may finally get through. To you. Your society churns out slaves and blanks. No thanks. Signed the Students of Westerburg High. 'Goodbye’.

A fire burns in his eyes, passion of what was going to happen. Everything that he planned was going to run perfectly, it had to if he was going to get you. It started with murder and it was going to end in a blaze of glory. Yancy closes his hand, crinkling the note in it as he does. 

His full attention is on the door that you sit on the other side of. “We'll watch the smoke pour out the doors. Bring marshmallows. We'll make s'mores! We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars!” Yancy hugs himself, imagining when he’ll be able to hold you in his arms. 

It wouldn’t be too long now. You just had to come out, you just had to stop being afraid of his love. The two of you could rule the world, together. You just had to listen to him, to love him like he loves you. 

Yancy now holds his hands out for a moment. “I was meant to be yous’! We were meant to be one! I can't take it alone! Finish what we've begun!” Yancy slowly starts walking to the door. “YOUS WERE MEANT TO BE MINE! I AM ALL THAT YOUS NEED! YOUS CARVED OPEN MY HEART! CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME TO BLEED!” Yancy leans on the door now.

He can hear faint shuffling from the other side as he take in a breath. You were coming around, yeah you were coming around to see that he was right. Hee was right about everything, he had to be right. 

Yancy hits the door again. “Y/N! open the- open the door, please. Y/n, open the door. Y/n, can we not fight anymore, please.” The doorknob jiggles and twists as he tries to open it. “Can we not fight anymore. Y/n, sure, yous’ scared I've been there. I can set yous free! Y/n, don't make me come in there! I'm gonna count to three!” Yancy holds his hand up. “One! Two! Fuck it!”

With all his might, Yancy kicks the door open. His face is filled with shock and horror in front of him. You were hanging in your walk in closet, a sheet was tightly wrapped around your neck. Yancy starts to cry, falling to his knees. 

“Oh my God... No! Y/n! Please don't leave me alone. Yous’ was all I could trust. I can't do this alone.” Anger takes over his features quickly. Those kids, those people at the school. They drove you to kill yourself. Everything that they’ve done to you brought you to leaving them, to leaving him. “STILL I WILL IF I MUST!...”

A knock comes to the door of the room, one of your parents was there. With one last glance at your hanging body, he leaves, right out the same window he came in through. He was going to finish what the two of you started. He was going to finish it for you and only for you.

When your parent came in they found you hanging in your closet. They screamed and instantly you were taking the sheet off and trying to calm them down. You had a new mission, you were the dead girl/boy walking.

Dear Park Jinyoung, my beloved boyfriend, my best friend, my lover, the light of my life, the man who made me feel better, the who made my world so much brighter when I was in the dark.

Do you remember when we first met, because I remember it so clearly?

I was trying to find money for my crying niece who wanted an ice cream, but you put your hand over mine and told me you would pay for it, like the gentleman you are and always have been.

I wanted to find some way to repay you for making my niece happy, so I treated you to lunch, no matter how much you declined.

You asked me for my number after, saying you’d like to be friends, so I agreed. 

That was almost five years ago, we started dating a year after being friends when you asked me out in front of the same ice cream truck at the amusement park I took my niece too.

Everything was so amazing when we started dating, your friends accepted me with open arms, even though mine weren’t the most accepting because they knew what happened in my past relationships.

When my brother and sister-in-law died, you were there to help me when I was given custody of my niece. You always helped to make her happy, even though she was only 3 years old and she had no idea what was going on.

You helped me become a better person for my niece, you helped me see the bright things in the world when mine was full of darkness. You were there to tell me everything was going to be okay, that I was strong, and that you would always be there for me.

I want to thank you for that. Thank you for seeing all the world had to offer instead of giving up. Thank you for becoming a replacement dad for Chae-Won Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for being my support system, a shoulder to cry on, and thank you deeply for caring for me.

I wanted to write you this letter because I saw you with another girl. 

You looked so happy with her, happier than you did with me. She was really pretty. She made you laugh when I haven’t in days. I could see the twinkle in your eyes when she smiled up at you.

I sincerely hope she loves you as much as you love her because I hope you are forever happy with her. You deserve so much happiness and love in the world.

In case you are wondering, don’t worry about me. I’m going to move back to my hometown with Chae-Won and raise her like her father and mother wished for her, just like my brother and I were raised.

We will be fine, I found a job and a house for Cha-Won and me to live in. My friends are helping me move, so when you get this letter, I will have already started my new life in my new home.

Please take care of yourself, Jinyoung. Please don’t blame yourself, I don’t blame you for falling out of love with me and starting to fall for someone else.

This is my letter to you letting you know I will always love you and I will miss you.

“If you’re not my client then who is?” He asked, steepling his fingers in a dominant fashion.

“I can’t give you much information, doctor-patient confidentiality and all that, but I do need your help.” You said, crossing your legs. You saw his eyebrow raise, suspiciously.

“How are you a doctor? You must be twenty.” You asked.

“Twenty-five actually, and I’m a doctor of psychology, I have my own practice.” You smiled, you were used to this by now.

“How can you be so young?” He asked.

“I graduated from Oxford, top of my class at 18, medical school 20, and then opened my own practice, but that’s not why I’m here.” You pushed. You watched again as Sherlock eyed you, his was clearly attracted to you, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“But.. how?” He asked again.

“What? Like it’s hard?” You smirked, before carrying on, “Like I said I can’t tell you much, but someone of significance to my patient was recently killed in an… unusual way, and immediately after he contacted a therapist, not the police or a detective.

“How unusual?” He asked curiously.

“‘Quite literally– death by a thousand cuts. Now I can’t tell you who he is, but I can steer him into your path. I have another session with him in an hour, maybe if he saw you around my office he might reach out to you, or at the very least you could read him yourself.” You said.

“Oh this is a good one, you’re spoiling me Ms…?” He asked for your name.

“Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled.

“Well Y/N, why come to me?” He asked.

“Well, I wrote my thesis on the science of deduction, I found your website, thought finally someone who speaks my language. And you’re a mild celebrity, though I try to avoid it, I do watch the news. And I need your help.” You pleaded.

“I’ll do it.” He smiled.

“Four o’clock.” You smiled, standing and handing him your business card with your office address on it.

“Sorry I’ve got to run. I’m conducting a seminar on multiple personalities and it takes forever to fill out the name tags.” You grabbed your bag and exited the room, on your way down the stairs you passed a man heading to see Sherlock. John Watson, you recognized him from the blog.

••••••••••

“Hey Sherlock, who was that?” John asked after you had left.

“Client.” He smiled, leaning against the window, watching you flag down a cab.

“You like her.” John teased.

“No I don’t.” He lied.

“You’re still looking at her.” John observed. Sherlock looked away from the window quickly. “Who is she?”

“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.” He smiled.

“Doctor? John was taken aback.

“There are still incredible people who walk among us.” Sherlock answered, slipping on his long coat.

“Sherlock where are you going?” John yelled as Sherlock ran down the stairs.

“The game is on!” He yelled, slamming the door.

••••••••••

“Dr. Y/L/N, there’s a Mr. Holmes here to see you.” Your receptionists said through the phone.

“Thank you Erin.” You said, putting the phone back on the receiver, and leaving your office.

“You’re early.” You smiled as you saw Sherlock standing in your office.

“Maybe I just really needed to see a doctor.” He smirked.

“Clearly.” You smirked.

“Y/N.” Your receptionist said, and you turned to face her. “Your four o’clock just called and canceled.”

“Shit, give me his file.” You ordered, she pulled it from the cabinet and placed it in your hand. You searched it for his address. You had to find him, you knew if he didn’t show up he might kill again. Obviously that was what happened the first time, he killed his flatmate.

You handed the file to Erin and she knew that you might be out for a while and not make it back for your next appointment.

“You have a session with your multiple personality at 6:00.” Erin said as you were heading towards the door.

“Not to worry. If I’m late he can just talk amongst himself.” You called back, pulling Sherlock out the door for you two to hail a cab.

Once in the car, you handed the file to Sherlock. Doctor-patient confidentiality gets thrown out the window if the patient has a potential to harm themselves or others.

“He craves power over others, since he has a lack of power in his own life. If I’m right about this, he killed his flatmate and is about to kill again. The method of death by a thousand cuts, or lingchi, is a very personal act. For someone like this, guns are too quick. They can’t savor all the little emotions. They start with the eyes, rendering the rest of the process even more psychologically terrifying for the victim. This gives them control, the victim’s life is in their hands, they can keep cutting and cutting until they’re satisfied, slowly, savoring it.” You explained as Sherlock read the file.

“So we can suspect it’s someone of significance to him. Why kill the flatmate? Had he wronged him in some way?” Sherlock asked.

“He said they got on well, and the police still think it was a random murder. But the police are idiots and my patient was obviously lying. You should have seen him, behavioral pauses and delays, verbal and nonverbal disconnects, hiding the mouth and eyes, throat-clearing and swallowing, he’s not very good at lying. The flatmate was sleeping with his girlfriend. She could be the next target.” You said, and Sherlock was staring at you in an odd way.

“What?” You asked, he was still staring and it was starting to concern you.

“It’s just that you’re so… mature and intelligent… and you should definitely should branch into criminal investigation.” He said, dumbfounded.

“You’re not the first to try to recruit me Sherlock Holmes.” You smirked.

“Oh really, who was?” He asked.

“MI6, the government, and a man named Mycroft Holmes, your brother I’m assuming.” You smiled.

“My brother tried to recruit you to work for the government?” Sherlock asked.

“Oh yes, he was very kind. He said I was perspicacious, and preeminent in my field.” You smiled, and the cab halted to a stop. The two of you rushed out.

You broke into the flat and stopped your patient from killing his girlfriend. She was tied up and he had injected her with opium to dull the pain so the process could last longer. Sherlock called the police, after a short row with your patient. He tried to escape and Sherlock caught him, and also received a punch to the face that was now swelling.

You now stood in 221B, helping Sherlock get all doctored up. You left the room to grab something for Sherlock, and left him with John.

“Sherlock… She’s a bit young for you, don’t you think?” John nagged.

“Who said anything about romantic entanglement?” Sherlock asked, defensively.

“You did, in all forms short of physical speech.” John answered.

“I know she’s a little younger than me, but John I’ve never felt like this before and it’s strange and new and I don’t know what to do!” Sherlock whisper yelled.

“A little younger, Sherlock she’s 10 years younger!” John yelled back just as you had entered the room. Sherlock looked apologetically up to you when he saw the look on your face. You had fallen for Sherlock Holmes.

“Uh, I’d love to stay, but I…” You said, thinking of an excuse as you gathered your things, ”I have my therapy group meeting… and the last time I was late the, er, compulsive gamblers were betting the passive aggressors that they couldn’t make the overeaters… cry.”

You headed down the stairs, surprised when you heard Sherlock running down after you. He grabbed your arm when you hit the coat rack downstairs.

“Y/N, wait, please.” Sherlock stopped you.

“No, I should go.” You tried to leave, but he stopped you.

“You truly are brilliant, and beautiful, and I would be a fool to let you walk out of here right now. You are the first woman who I’ve felt this way around. At first I was hesitant, because of the slight age difference, but now I see that that doesn’t matter and age is just a number.” Sherlock began.

“Sherlock–” You tried, but he cut you off.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” He asked.

“I’d love to.” You beamed.

••••••••••

Part 2

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