the music box killer | bang chan

prologue

THIRD PERSON'S POV:

Neon lights, drinks in every hand, smoky haze filling every corner of the room, and sweaty bodies pressed against each other as they moved to deafening pop beats. It seemed to be a normal day at The Inferno Club, located in the heart of the town of Miroh. But it wouldn't be so for too long.

Amidst all the chaos and razzle-dazzle, a certain well dressed figure makes his way into the club's private room, which was kept reserved for guests who liked to keep their meetings away from prying eyes and ears. He exuded a powerful aura; the kind that makes you feel the need to be cautious around him.

Following behind the male, who was donned in a shaggy trench coat and faux fur hat, were a few men in black. They seemed to be his bodyguards— it was difficult to imagine otherwise when they were all uniformly dressed in black suits and had matching earpieces on. They all looked very intimidating, but no one could surpass the first guy in this respect. He had to be someone important.

Observing all this behind the glass counters of the club's famous bar was a certain blond-haired bartender. Though he was actively mixing drinks for customers, he couldn't help but want to inquire about the group of men that just passed by him. The man in eye-catching attire especially piqued his interest.

Shortly after, he notices one of his female colleagues walk towards the room they were occupying with a tray full of different drinks. Contemplating with himself for a moment, he decides to take the opportunity and find out what was really going on inside there. The boy wasn't usually this nosy, but the voices in his head refused to stay put unless he found answers. It's not like they had interesting guests every other day, anyways.

After exchanging roles with the girl, he takes a deep breath. The room provided a fairly good amount of protection to the guests from being heard by outsiders, but he could make out people yelling at each other inside. The argument seemed to be getting a bit heated, and suddenly he wasn't too sure he wanted to get involved.

He softly knocks on the door, knowing fully well that he wouldn't be heard. The men inside seemed to be dangerous, and he didn't want to slip up before he could even start investigating.

Surprisingly enough, the voices inside go silent. He pushes the long metal bars of the door to enter inside, scanning his surroundings in order to feed his curious mind. He was met with more new faces there: a man in an olive green shirt and black leather pants, followed by more men who looked like bodyguards.

The man in the coat from earlier seemed to be the most important one in the room, so the blond haired boy makes his way towards him first. The man was fuming; every inch of his body screamed angry and furious. It gave him goosebumps.

"Your drinks, sir," he says politely, about to set the wineglass on the table in front of him. However, before the glass manages to even touch the surface of the table, the unmistakable sound of it shattering is heard.

To say he was shocked is an understatement— the man just broke the glass with his bare hands! As if that wasn't bizarre enough, he found it even more peculiar that he was the only one phased by the sound. Not a single person besides him flinched at the noise. That gave him the chills. Maybe it was best for him to not stick around and snoop anymore.

"Get out of my sight," the man says through gritted teeth, seething with fury. Scared, the blond quickly bows to him before making a dash for the exit doors. If he stayed in there a second longer, he probably wouldn't have been spared.

Still astonished by the experience, he drags his feet slowly as he goes back to his initial postion. It felt so surreal to him, this wasn't a sight he thought he'd witness in real life.

Just as he was getting pulled into his own world, the entire club rings with quickly successive bang! sounds, which were unmistakably those of three bullets being fired. The sound might have lasted for only a second or two, but being humans, everyone's natural reaction was to panic. All the dancers, bartenders and guests were making a beeline for the exit, though severely unorganized.

Every single person, besides that one blond bartender, whose curiosity got the best of him.

He stands in the middle of the crowd, unable to decide his course of action. Should he stay and investigate, or should he be sensible and try to escape like everyone else?

Amidst the frenzy of the people, a certain group of men depart the area from the back door of the private room, going completely unnoticed by the remaining occupants of the club. After all, that room was the source of the gunshots. Who would want to be there of all places?

Shortly after, the entire club had been devoid of any sign of human life. Or at least that's what the bartender thought. Still standing behind the glass counters where he was serving drinks to strangers earlier that night, he suddenly hears a door near to him open. The door being the one that led him to the room which everyone now feared. He quickly ducks below the counters, hiding inside a cabinet below. To his luck, he was silent enough not to get caught.

He hears the shuffling of multiple footsteps near him, and his heart was beating out of his chest. He clearly hadn't thought about staying back through, and he now had a very strong and real threat of death looming around him.

"You know what Han's capable of, and you saw what happened inside right now. Ruin this for me one more time and I'll be killing you with my own damn hands. You have my word," the voice of a man echoes inside the club, which suddenly felt very small and suffocating to the poor bartender. He had landed himself in a life or death situation solely to satisfy his inquiring mind.

The sound of the footsteps gradually decrease, until the entire room goes silent. Assuming that no one else remained in the building, while simultaneously praying for his life, the boy slowly walks towards the now cursed private room. He takes a deep breath, before embracing himself for what was to come.

As soon as he opens the door, the eerie sound of a music box greets his ears. As if that wasn't creepy on it own, he sees a trail of footsteps marked with blood. It made him feel sick, yet he didn't want to leave without finding out. He got this far already, didn't he?

He takes slowly progressing steps before he completely stops in his tracks. His breath gets hitched in his throat and the room felt stuffy all of a sudden. He sees the music box from which the tune has been playing so far, placed in the blood of one of the men in black he saw earlier. What made the sight even more gory was the precision of the shots fired— the bullets right on his forehead, lined up in a perfectly straight line.

The boy was stuck. He couldn't move. He had never witnessed anything this horrifying before, and he did not know how to react.

A tear escapes his eye before he let's out a bloodcurdling scream. Why did he bring this upon himself?

He sprints out of the room, wanting to call the police as fast as he could. He cries and bangs his head against the countertops, feeling very disturbed and frustrated. The receiver picks up the phone almost immediately, asking him what his emergency was.

"I just witnessed something h-horrible," he says, voice breaking as he keeps sobbing. The officer on the other side of the line tries to calm him down, wanting to find out what the problem was.

"M-murder. I just saw a d-dead man. Nothing ordinary about it. Please come here fast, I'm really s-scared," he cries.

"Where are you? Could you please tell me your location?" The officer asks, to which he responds with the required information.

"May I have your good name, Sir? We might need it for the investigation," the voice asks again.

"The name's Lee Felix," the blond boy says as he wipes his tears away, ending the call.