"People hating me doesn't faze me. People loving me...that would be concerning."
A group of criminals with supernatural powers are getting ready for the biggest heist of their lives, but for it to work they need Kimhan the Executioner.
However, it'...
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Where the fuck was he? How much he had drunk that he couldn't remember shit? He couldn't even open his eyes fully because his head was hurting so much. "Where the fuck was I last night?" Kim cursed under his breath and looked around. He should find his way back home. He had to feed Moonshine and follow up with his mission to get every fucking person in that shitty convent. After all, he had that idiot Chen at his house. It was time to beat out of him everything that he needed.
Not knowing where he was, Kim decided to look up his exact location on his phone and find the fastest way back home. It was what was on his phone that made him even more confused, and his head felt as if it would rip in two the longer he kept looking at a picture of a boy with dark ruffled hair, eyes that for some reason made Kim hold his breath for a moment, and smile—soft and pretty and somehow familiar.
He clenched the phone tighter in his hand—it was his phone so what was that—who was that?
'I want to be yours if you will be mine too. Do you want to be mine, Kimhan?' The words cut through his mind with a force so strong, it almost made Kim lose his balance. He looked around, but the voice wasn't coming from outside, it was inside of him—in his head. And it was different—different than the chaos he was used to. This... what the fuck was this?
He had to get home. Had to figure out what was wrong with him, but not here, not where anyone could see him.
+++++
The road home was a complete torture. At some points, Kim had to stop entirely and catch his breath. The pain he felt in his head was awful. It was like nothing he ever felt before. He remembers the pain of being constantly on his knees, having the nails digging deep into his flesh, having his fingers bloody all the time from trying to clean the blood from the bathroom just like he was told, having candle wax being poured on his skin, but not even all of that combined held enough pain to compare the way his head was torturing him now.
He stumbled into his house—body shaking and the waves of feeling too cold and too warm hitting his body one after another over and over again. But that wasn't the worst—the worst was that voice in his head telling Kim he loves him over and over again. Calling Kim baby and Kimmy, and then there was Kim's voice as well, whispering Sparky so many times that it was the only word ever tasted by his lips, held in his mind like an oath. What was it? Why? Why did he have those weird voices in his head, why why why? Who would ever care for him enough to talk to him in such a sweet voice, call him nicknames and... love him? What was his mind trying to do? Why was it trying to deceive him? Lure him into thinking that somewhere out there was someone who loved him—cared for him. Someone who was maybe worried about him and looking for him right now? It was all just a bunch of lies his mind was making up. Maybe this was it—maybe he was alone and unloved for far too long, and now he had finally gone fully insane.
