7: Bloody Canvas

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Jungkook's father opened his eyes only to look at the ceiling of his own house. His head throbbed in pain but he looked around to see a white canvas standing beside him.

He was tied up on the dining table and heard the sound of a drill from far away. His body was shivering in fear.

"Jungkook. He did this." He mumbled but his eyes widened when Jungkook popped in front of his face with a big smile.

"Father, you woke up. I need your help." Jungkook said in a cheerful manner and his father trembled. "Jungkook, leave me. What are you doing?"

Jungkook pouted, bringing up a cigarette and lighting it up, walking away. "I am afraid I cannot listen to you, father."

"Jungkook! I'm your father!" He yelled and Jungkook chuckled, puffing out the smoke from his mouth. "I know, father."

"Why are you doing this?" His father asked. "Because you don't trust me." Jungkook replied casually, puffing out smoke. His father's eyes widened. "I- I trust you. I was joking." He stuttered.

Jungkook chuckled and threw his cigarette on the ground, crushing it with his feet. "Too bad. I'm not." He said and took the chain saw that he kept on the kitchen island.

His father gasped and tried to scream. "Help! Jungkook! Don't do this!" He shouted. Jungkook shook his head and moved the chain saw close to his legs.

"Jungkook! No! I'm your father! Whatever you're doing is wrong!" His father screamed.

"He didn't trust you. That was wrong too."

Jungkook nodded and replied, "You're right." His father heaved a sigh of relief but he turned the chain saw on and moved forward to slice his legs, causing the blood to splatter all over the table, on his face and on the canvas.

His father screamed in immense pain, his mouth opening wide along with his eyes as Jungkook watched the scene unfold with his eyes, imprinting it in his mind so that he can paint in on his canvas.

"This is so exciting to watch."

"This will look great on my Canvas." Jungkook said, turning the chain saw off and then turning his head to look at the fascinating sight of his canvas.

He admired the masterpiece that he created. A real life masterpiece which cannot be made with brushes and normal colours. It intrigued him to do more. Commit more crime.

"So fucking perfect."

"

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