Demon On My Mind

-1-

Mingi is a creature that most people fear. A creature humans make horrible movies about. Movies that have you watching your back at home, movies that make you unable to sleep at night. That creature is a...

Demon.

Now you'd think Mingi is a scary looking monster but, no; he is drop dead gorgeous. What you've to fear is the insane head he carries not the fact that he's a demon.

;M;

The world is rotten. I can smell it. The smell of rotting meat, torn-off skin, the fetor of old, dry blood. The smell of decay. And it's not in Hell.
People are slowly but surely killing their own Heaven on Earth. They created comfort and class for nothing, however, their life lacks class and taste as they are searching for depraved and pervert joys every single day. No wonder why the planet is dying... and no wonder why I have so much power.

Well, as the colonel of Hell's greatest and most fabulous army, I think I deserve it. And of course I deserve a big glass of high-class Scotch as well. Having completed all my things-to-do... well, "lives-to-take, souls-to-flay" list today I flew myself here, into this piece of shit club in this messy city of the "Emerging Far-Fucking-East"... and I thought I will have more fun than I am having at this particularly lazy moment. I glance over the dancefloor, but I only see easy girls and way easier boys as they catch my sight for even a moment. I need something more tonight, not a cheap and easy lay...

In a further search of targets and not too easy boys, I continue judging my well respected – wow who am I kidding – audience, but something catches my eyes... or someone to be exact.

He has the most intense energies in this damned place, and he's so pure that even I feel like I'm being baptized with his pure persona.

Seems like I have my clean white canvas to smear tonight... and that's why I ask the bartender to serve him a Between the sheets cocktail immediately. I hope he'll get the hint.

;3rd;

Yeosang was silently regretting agreeing to go out with one of his friends named Wooyoung. No seriously, why did he even open the text message he received. He knows Wooyoung long enough to tell beforehand that they would end up in one of the most famous clubs in their city. The good thing so far was the fact that the club had comfy sofas— where he sat daydreaming about a book he read at home. Only if he knew how bored he'd be he'd bring it with him.

Today, was a sucked up day like every other day, hustle and bustle everywhere—every second of the day. All the stupid brats around his apartment wouldn't shut up, shouting, letting out joyful laughters and some crying for whatever goddamn reason they had. No one cares if you want peace, no. The fact that you're brought into this hell of a planet makes it your responsibility to withstand every frustration and every anger within.

Honestly speaking, sometimes as mean and as heartless as it may sound; Yeosang understands the serial killers. He doesn't justify them, he just understands them.

No one shuts up, no one. However, Yeosang doesn't hate living per se. He just hates the people living alongside him. The club he's in is a reminder of how fucked up and slutty his generation is. Girls are trying to be seductive and guys fall under their spells like stupid ogres. But at least it's a win-win, ain't it? They fuck and they get fucked. How low of a goal is that to have?

Of course, Wooyoung wasn't any better in that particular moment. If Yeosang cared enough to search better he'd surely find him grinding against another handsome boy toy of his. Save, Wooyoung was smart and as manipulative as a human being could get. He was using them and honestly? Why not? They all are stupid to not know that they are getting manipulated.