Jungkook P.O.V.
I watched from afar. Clementine looked distraught and disappointed, which is exactly where I wanted her.
"Dude, that was so wrong," Jimin said beside me. Like he had morals. I rolled my eyes. There was no way Taehyung was going to steal what I wanted.
"It doesn't matter," I sharply said. She was perfect. She was mine. It's not like I had this random revelation ten minutes ago. I've known her since we were young. If I hadn't been sent to a boarding school when I was younger, I would have her by now. I was going to have her no matter what, even if it ruined friendships. My desire for her outweighs the need for friends. In all honesty, I didn't think it would be an issue, the friend thing. She knew Namjoon, acts like a literal annoying brother, dating him would be practically incest. She knew the others through classes, but Taehyung wasn't a part of the equation. He wasn't supposed to be back. He wasn't supposed to be here. He plays this innocent, nerdy boy, but that's not who he really is.
"Yo, bro." Jimin hit my shoulder, pointing at what was supposed to be just a sad Clementine. "I don't know what Taehyung said, but they are holding hands, and she looks happy."
"I'm leaving," I bluntly stated. Pure rage. Pure hatred. Was I jealous? No. Envious? No doubt about it. I could hear Jimin calling out for me, but that's useless. He knows that. There's only one thing that can calm me down.
♡
Clementine's P.O.V.
"Good evening, I'm Emilia Snow, and we begin tonight with breaking news from downtown, where a devastating crime has left the community in disbelief."
"Authorities are investigating a double homicide that occurred approximately 4 o'clock in the afternoon near a café by Kingston University. Upon arrival, they discovered two men, 34 and 29, who were pronounced dead at the scene.
The cameras cut to the police officer. I sat there dumbfounded. It could have been me. I could have died today. I was leaving the café at that time. I looked at my father who seemed too engrossed on his phone.
"We are currently investigating the circumstances surrounding this tragic incident. We urge everyone in this community to be aware and come forward with any information. Lastly, we do believe this is works of a serial killer. The killers M.O. matches from a couple unsolved cases."
Suddenly, my father shifted in his seat, his focus now on the news. The knuckles on his hand turned white from gripping the chair. "Father," I softly asked, trying to get him to focus on something different.
"Clem, you will not be leaving this house without a bodyguard." I softly chuckled at him. He is always so worried about my safety, always saying that he feels someone is watching us. Delusion, which I will not be feeding in to.
"Father, I'll be fine. You don't have to worry about me. I have years of self-defense experience," I replied, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood. My father slammed his hands on the coffee table; no one moved.
"Clementine Elise Hargrave. I will not have you disobeying me." Just in time, my mother came in, a confused but scared look on her face.
"What is going on," she asked, as she played with my hair. I was used to this. Ever since I was little, she always played with my hair when she was stressed or scared.
"He's back," was all my dad said. The audible shock from my mother could be heard from across the world. My hair fell back on my shoulders. My mother was frightened, my father was angry, and I was confused. "We all need to be careful. No one can leave this house without a bodyguard. Do you understand me," he demanded. My mother nodded. I shrugged.
"I have homework to do," I said getting up. My mother reached out to me, possibly trying to get me to stay or possibly trying to play with my hair or both.
As I reached my bedroom door, I pushed it open, the hinges creaking due to the old bolts. I closed the door behind me softly, my mind still racing from the conversation downstairs. I've never seen my father this stressed or my mother this scared. I quickly grabbed my laptop and wrapped myself in a blanket burrito on my bed. Switching on the laptop, the screen flickered to life, the infinite tabs still open.
Search: Kingston University Café Murder
I scrolled through the current articles, trying to find something new. Nothing.
Search: Kingston University Café Murder M.O.
Again, I scrolled through the more articles, until one caught my eye. I pulled up the article, zooming into the small words. Multiple cases throughout the decade. Victims found in isolated places. No signs of a struggle. The police reports, that were publicly available, were frustratingly vague. I scrolled through the photographs available, the places looked familiar. If true crime taught me anything, I need to make a timeline.
Grabbing a random notebook, I began jotting down names, dates, locations, and times. Each murder was a piece to a larger, grotesque puzzle.
September 1st, 2004: First Murder - The body was found September 2nd in an alley behind the Elysian Grand Hotel. Based on forensics, the victim was killed on September 1st. The victim was Reginald Sterling, an old-money socialite. Sterling was last seen in the hotel. "That is so weird, on my 10th birthday," I whispered.
October 15th, 2004: Second Murder - The body was found in a bathroom at the Rolling Strikes Lanes. The victims were a couple named Marie Caldwell. The cameras at Rolling Strikes Lanes provided a brief description based on video evidence. Teenager. Black hair. "How vague," I said.
November 10th, 2010: Third Murder - The bodies was found in a dumpster behind St. Augustine Academy football field. The victim was three teenage boys; names redacted due to parents' request. "I don't remember this happening," I thought.
December 17th, 2010: Fourth Murder - The body was found in a classroom at St. Augustine Academy. The victim was an eighteen-year-old boy named Brad Harrigton. It was the academy's winter ball. Mr. Harrington was last seen with a fellow classmate, Clementine Hargrave.
"What," I confusingly said. Why couldn't I remember? I paused, staring at my name on the article, next to a victim's name. I jumped off my bed and grabbed a scrapbook my mother made me. Something wasn't right. I could feel it in my bones. As I flipped through the scrapbook, the pieces started to fall in line.
September 1st, 2004 - my 10th birthday was at Elysian Grand Hotel
October 15th, 2004 - went on a date with a potential suitor's family (the Caldwell's) at Rolling Strikes Lanes
November 10th, 2010 - got asked out to winter ball at the football field
December 17th, 2010 - went to winter ball with Brad Harrigton
I couldn't scroll through the article anymore. There were too many coincidences, and I was scared about how many more were there, including the one that happened today. My heart was racing a million beats per minute. A soft but unmistakable sound of knocking jolted me from my concentration. Panic surged through me as I instinctively slammed my laptop shut.
"Clementine, there's someone here for you?" It was my mother's voice, tinged with curiosity and concern. I sat frozen for a moment, my breath catching in my throat.
"Yeah, I'm coming," I called out. "Who is here?" I quickly glanced around the room, trying to find the best hiding spot. Dresser. I shoved the laptop into my shirt drawer.
"He says his name is Jungkook."
YOU ARE READING
Twisted - JJK
FanfictionTo her, he's a narcissist, annoying - a friend of a friend. It wasn't until recently that she started to notice him, but even then, he was still just a friend. But in Jungkook's mind, Clementine is his only desire, and nothing will get in his way...
