CYANIDE [IwaOi]

chapter 13. Dernière danse

He drove off, the storm outside slowly starting to form as he pressed a bit more on the gas pedal. He focused on the street as his heart sped up. He knew his time was counted as of now, he knew he left to many hints to people around. He would not be surprised if the body has already been reported and is currently being analyzed.

He knew that he had limited time, the man's car was probably being tracked. He knew he'd probably hear a news flash on the radio soon describing the car he was using, so he needed to hurry.

He didn't want to be in the nearby area, of fear of falling upon the only people he didn't want to harm. He went further out of town, near the suburbs. He was looking for a certain place, the place he'd commit a last minute crime, a horrid crime but one that would go down in history.

There was a fancy club that was quite popular, but Oikawa knew the cons of that place. As much as the people partying there adore it, it's one of the least surveilled clubs in the area. There were no cameras in the parking area, nor at the door. The bouncer doesn't double check what goes in or out, nor do bartenders watch what happens to the drinks since there is just so many people in a compact area.

And so, he opened the box, taking out the powder pouch and pills with enough cyanide to kill at the least 250 people. He hid it all in his hoodie, knowing what he was going to do.

Entering wasn't that hard, he simply sneaked in with a group of people, unseen. His first objective was to drop the pills of to someone specific. He didn't have connections, but he knew that there was at least one person going around with a cute basket of various meds mixed together, for people to pick in.

It wasn't hard to find, which he easily disposed of the pills, just about 200. The basket holder was crazed, just thanking Oikawa before the brunette disappeared in the crowd to the first bar, knowing he had about 3 minutes before the first victims would drop.

"CALLING 25 SHOTS, WHO WANTS EM?" He yelled, smacking two 100$ bills on the counter. "Pass me the malibu rum bartender, I'll make the shots, keep the cash." The man shrugged and passed the large bottle, knowing oikawa straight up bought it for much higher than its original price. He quickly proceeds to adding the first powder pouch in the bottle as people weren't watching, either too distracted by the music or the bliding lights.

He poured the poisonned shots, winking to everyone before fadding into the crowd yet again. This time he pulled out his phone, opening his sms app. He tapped on Iwaizumi's contact, taking a deep breath befor composing a short message for him.

'Hey Iwa-chan, sorry for all I did. I can't explain by text, but just know I love you and I trust you. If you ever saw me as at least your friend, or maybe were looking in for more, look in my right nightstand. My diary is there, you'll understand everything. If not, burn it.
Goodbye, Love.
- Oikawa Toruu.'

And with that, he headed to the second bar, the second pouch feeling heavy in his shirt. Just before he bought a new bottle, he smashed his phone on the ground, destroying it completely knowing the message was sent. He made sure the sim card, sd card, memory card and everything else was in mere bits.

He slammed his last bills on the counter. "Get 25 shot glasses out, and pass me the whole malibu rum bottle. Oh and also one wiskey on the rocks please" He said as he smiled at the woman. She complied, making his drink as he yet again added the powdered cyanide to the alcoholic beverage, mixing it a bit.

Once the glasses were aligned, he yelled "FREE SHOTS HERE, GOT 25!" As he filled them, many came and took the shots. He took his own drink and walked off, heading to a table area. It was hard to find a seat since it was so crowded, but he managed. Oikawa watched the dancefloor as he could already some people dropping like flies.

He grinned like a psychopath, enjoying the scene just a bit too much. He pulled out his last pill from his pocket, dropping it in his drink. He waited patiently for it to disolve as a scream of terror ripped through the booming music. More people dropped, both around the bar and dancefloor.

He could see a barman point at him. He took it as a cue and downed his drink. "Too bad I couldn't even enjoy my last drink." He muttered as he watcher the bartenders call security on him. He sat back and enjoyed the little show time he had left, watching people continuously drop.

A few security guards ran towards him, but he smirked and flipped them off. It had been exactly 3 minutes and 28 seconds since he drank his drink, knowing exactly what was about to happen. He stood rapidly, yelling out "I AM THE CYANIDE KILLER AND I HAVE KILLED SO MANY BEFORE YOU ALL, NOW COME ROT WITH ME IN HELL."

And with that he dropped, both on beat of the last song of the night and as the police sirens started to be heard.

Now tell me, what could be more insulting to police to see a mass murder in a popular club with little security, putting many lives in danger? A murderer who slipped through their fingers many times without a trace, all because of one thing.

Cyanide.