Vminkook | V-Centric
Kim Taehyung's sunny personality seemed to scare away the shadows, or rather, the demons that clung onto them. The darkness would go away for some time, but no one can fully cleanse it. And so, everyone in the city wondered, whe...
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D E M O N S
. Undetermined
. All
. Location: Seoul, South Korea
Kim Taehyung was always an atypical case, liked by many but affiliated with none. It was not his gold skin that they leaned close, but merely his sunny personality that seemed to scare away the shadows, or rather, the demons that clung onto them. The darkness would go away for some time, but no one can entirely cleanse it. And so, everyone in the city wondered, where were his demons, and when would they be back?
Only those like Taehyung could tell that he was not wholly there, that he lacked the simple consciousness that to a young kid. And so, being him, he was lonely with nothing and only with demons. Sure, he could play with the others, they liked him, but it felt wrong when he tried because they just did not understand him. They did not comprehend that while others were sensibly nervous for the upcoming spelling bee while he just grinned, knowing he threatened the toughest competitor into silence through smiles and sweet cookies. That was the first time someone saw a dark side, a deeper side to him. Nor did they see when he dragged an unconscious body into a janitor's closet for trying to steal his lunch money, and no one was aware, not even him for he did not remember those incidents. Or when he did it felt like a nightmare, so he passed it on as one. And maybe it was just his imagination running wild because again, no one could understand.
He was eleven, and he was fascinated by crime; the confidence the prisoners have, what lengths they would go to; it tempted him. It lured him in. He wanted to be involved in any way conceivable, whether he be behind bars or in front. And honestly, that scared him, beyond belief. He did not know what he was capable of, and he was not ready to find out. Not now, and perhaps never.
He was fifteen and realized that going to jail was not an option because of the overwhelming healthcare bill he had to pay. His smile dimmed when he comprehended it, but he pushed on. He got a job and forgot about his passion; it was a boring one, but one all the same. He purchased groceries and delivered them to old women who were unable.
He was seventeen and had to figure his life out. He went through paper after paper, file after file, and discovered nothing fascinated him more than a prison psychologist's position. Not a glitzy title, I realize, but the concept of working with jailbirds enthralled him.
He was eighteen when he and his grandma cried in her hospital room because he got into university with a full scholarship. They commemorated with cake and a promise to never give up until his dream came true. Three months later she fell into a coma and was on life-support while he threw his graduation cap in a lonely crowd of now colorful alumni.
Throughout his academy years, he studied his ass off cramming. He had no time for a girlfriend or boyfriend. He studied how to assess the risk of recidivism and backsliding, possibilities as to why they committed the crime, and after six droning years in and out of college, he finally got his doctoral degree in psychology.
When he was 24, a local asylum on the eastside trialed and finally hired him as a counselor, and boy oh boy, did it turn Taehyung's world upside down. And the ones guilty? Jeon Jungkook and Park Jimin.
. Undetermined . All . Earth
They grew up together, joined at the hip, and known as the iconic pair when strutting down the halls. They shared everything. And since that was their nature, when one went insane, the other followed because apart, they would be suicidal.
They spray-painted their first building together just for the fun of it. They arched and weaved colors in a dizzying dance of images, beautiful but oh so treacherous. The adrenaline that raced in their veins as disturbing images seeped into the white canvas laced with crimson and pitch-black was addicting. Epinephrine was hooking, playing the part of an irresistible beat you can help but tap your foot to, and the boys were dancing with the devil. It made them feel more alive than ever. And that was only the start. Afterward, they sat back laughing with shit-eating grins on the rooftop watching as the police scrambled to find them.
They dropped out of school, leaving their vile households, and trekked to places they have always desired to go. As none predicted, they completely disappeared and became the shadows of a sinner. They went around killing, stealing, torturing. No one arrested them because clearly, you cannot catch a shadow, can you? Unless you are Peter Pan, but sadly, they were just lost boys pleading to escape. No one knew where they went first, maybe L.A., but wherever they did go, they left a path of bodies in their wake, but with no evidence convicting them. The pair leaped from country to country with light hearts and their orises curving up shrouded in bloody lipstick.
Jimin and Jungkook, kneeling on the other side of the swarming city, were in cuffs, bloodied faces accented with Cheshire grins was never something a person thought to have seen. Contrary to the majority's opinion, the heavy liquid was not their own. It belonged to a cheapskate that threatened them and had an untimely demise. They left him with permanent flesh tattoos in a dumpster to rot while flies picked and plucked at his body.
Soon after, unfortunately for them, the police arrived to address a noise complaint from a neighbor who thought the residents were getting freaky in the night, only to discover Jimin and Jungkook walking nonchalantly, tracking red footprints all over the place.
"Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, you both are arrested for murder and various other crimes. You have the right to remain silent; anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to consult an attorney..."
Throughout the arrest, the duo just stared at each other, faces void of any emotion other than sick satisfaction. They did not flinch, not then, not when the officer forced them into the car at gunpoint, nor in the interrogation room where they were threatened.
These men were later sent to the asylum, where they were 'to rot' in jail for what they did to the sons and daughters of rich people.
