It all began when the nation's most renowned mafia entered the residence of Y/N, a modest young woman whose only aspirations were to complete her college education and lead a tranquil existence. Unbeknownst to her, her life was about to undergo a pr...
It's truly chilling to think about the lengths to which individuals will go for self-preservation. When night descends and the masks we wear in daylight fade away, the raw, primal instincts of humanity emerge. Are you willing to kill or be killed?
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Once more, my immediate reaction was to flee. Taehyung couldn't see me, his back turned towards me, while Jackson struggled to keep his eyes open for even a second. Despite this, I dashed towards a corner and knelt down. Through all the corn crops, I could see both of them from a small opening. Through a small opening amid the corn crops, I could still see both of them. However, I couldn't muster the courage to watch any longer. Instead, I sat there, my entire body trembling and eyes squeezed shut, silently urging myself not to make a sound.
I heard a few more grunts—perhaps only two more minutes, but it felt like an eternity. At this point, I was practically lying on the ground, curled up into a ball as I rocked back and forth. Five agonizing seconds ticked by before a thunderous gunshot shattered the serene stillness of the crisp night. Jackson was dead, and there wasn't any going back. The worst part was that no one would ever know Jackson died—except me.
I covered my ears with my hands, tears streaming down my face like a torrential Niagara Falls. I sobbed hysterically, yet no sound escaped—and thank goodness for that. Slowly, but surely, I lifted myself up. Jackson was certainly dead, but Taehyung's silhouette obscured the gruesome scene that lay on the ground.
I couldn't help but ponder how Taehyung felt. With hands on his hips, he loomed over someone he had just taken the life of—was there any remorse stirring within him? Or did he stand there, perhaps, admiring his now lifeless victim? Was he, perhaps, proud?
All I knew was that this wasn't the Taehyung I once knew—the one who always opened the car door for me, offered assistance, held my shopping bags, ensured my comfort, and provided comfort itself. Sometimes, it felt as if he were my personal fluffy pillow—a source of comfort to snuggle with and find a sense of safety.
But who was I kidding? I barely knew the man.
No.
The monster.
I observed as he dragged the lifeless body with his bare hands towards the edge of the cornfield. Forcing myself back onto my feet, I stumbled forward as quietly as I could manage, if such a thing were even possible, towards Taehyung. He was heading towards the secluded, very deep pond that rarely saw any visitors. After all, it had become a breeding ground for mosquitoes.
